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The Island: Canto IV.

© George Gordon Byron

I.

White as a white sail on a dusky sea,

To Life's Pilgrim

© Geoffrey Chaucer

Savor no more than thee behoven shall,
Rede well thy self that other folk can'st rede,
And Truth thee shalt deliver 'tis no drede.

Lights Along the Mile

© Alfred Thomas Chandler

THE NIGHT descends in glory, and adown the purple west

The young moon, like a crescent skiff, upon some fairy quest,

The Dunciad: Book II.

© Alexander Pope

Not with more glee, by hands Pontific crown'd,
With scarlet hats wide-waving circled round,
Rome in her Capitol saw Querno sit,
Throned on seven hills, the Antichrist of wit.

When Morgan crossed the Murray to Peechelba and doom
A sombre silent shadow rode with him through the gloom.
The wild things of the forest slunk from the outlaw's track,
The boobook croaked a warning, "Go back, go back, go back!"
It woke no answering echo in Morgan's blackened soul,
As onward through the darkness he rode towards his goal.

Madeline

© Henry Timrod

O lady! if, until this hour,

I've gazed in those bewildering eyes,

Glycera Rediviva

© Franklin Pierce Adams

Venus, the cruel mother of
The Cupids (symbolizing Love),
Bids me to muse upon and sigh
For things to which I've said "Good-bye!"

Chimes

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I.

HONEY-FLOWERS to the honey-comb,

Nightmare For Future Reference

© Stephen Vincent Benet

"Not like this," he said. "I can show you the curve.
It looks like the side of a mountain, going down.
And faster, the last three months yes, a good deal faster.
I showed it to Lobenheim and he was puzzled.
It makes a neat problem yes?" He looked at me.

To Eleonora Duse In "The Dead City"

© Sara Teasdale

Were you a Greek when all the world was young,
Before the weary years that pass and pass,
Had scattered all the temples on the grass,
Before the moss to marble columns clung?

The Brave Volunteer

© Julia A Moore

At the time of the rebellion

Between the north and south,

Nightmare At Noon

© Stephen Vincent Benet

But do not call it loud. There is plenty of time.
There is plenty of time, while the bombs on London fall
And turn the world to wind and water and fire.
There is time to sleep while the fire-bombs fall on London,
They are stubborn people in London.

Home, Sweet Home

"It shall be a royal mansion,
A fair and beautiful thing,
It will be the presence-chamber
Of thy Saviour, Lord and King.

The Old House And The New

Is it only twelve mont' I play de fool,
You're sure it 's correc' , ma dear?
I 'm glad for hearin' you spik dat way
For I t'ink it was twenty year,

The Ghost - Book I

With eager search to dart the soul,

Curiously vain, from pole to pole,

Ode On Venice

I.
Oh Venice! Venice! when thy marble walls
Are level with the waters, there shall be
A cry of nations o'er thy sunken halls,
A loud lament along the sweeping sea!
If I, a northern wanderer, weep for thee,

The Diver

"Which of you, knight or squire, will dare
Plunge into yonder gulf?
A golden beaker I fling in it-there!
The black mouth swallows it like a wolf!
Who brings me the cup again, whoever,
It is his own-he may keep it for ever!"