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In The Night

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

In the silent midnight watches,

When the earth was clothed in gloom,

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To Charles Cowden Clarke

© John Keats

Oft have you seen a swan superbly frowning,
And with proud breast his own white shadow crowning;
He slants his neck beneath the waters bright
So silently, it seems a beam of light

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Adventure of a Poet

© Robert Fuller Murray

As I was walking down the street
  A week ago,
  Near Henderson's I chanced to meet
  A man I know.

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The Song Of Loved Ones

© Edgar Albert Guest

The father toils at his work all day,

And he hums this song as he plods away:

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Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book IX - Drona-Badha (Fall Of Drona)

© Romesh Chunder Dutt

On the fall of Bhishma the Brahman chief Drona, preceptor of the Kuru

and Pandav princes, was appointed the leader of the Kuru forces. For

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The Seeking Of The Waterfall

© John Greenleaf Whittier

They left their home of summer ease
Beneath the lowland's sheltering trees,
To seek, by ways unknown to all,
The promise of the waterfall.

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Jack Frenchman’s Lamentation

© Jonathan Swift

Ye Commons and Peers,
  Pray lend me your ears,
I'll sing you a song, (if I can,)
  How Lewis le Grand
  Was put to a stand,
By the arms of our gracious Queen Anne.

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One Home

© William Stafford

Mine was a Midwest home—you can keep your world.
Plain black hats rode the thoughts that made our code.
We sang hymns in the house; the roof was near God.

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The Bells

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

‘T is but a wave, whose spreading circle beats,
With the same impulse, every nerve it meets,
Yet who shall count the varied shapes that ride
On the round surge of that aerial tide!

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On Certain Elizabethan revivals

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

O RUFF-EMBASTIONED vast Elizabeth,

Bush to these bushel-bellied casks of wine,

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The Starre

© George Herbert

Bright spark, shot from a brighter place,
  Where beams surround my Saviour's face,
  Canst thou be any where
  So well as there?

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The Cookie Jar

© Edgar Albert Guest

You can rig up a house with all manner of things,
The prayer rugs of sultans and princes and kings;
You can hang on its wall the old tapestries rare
Which some dead Egyptian once treasured with care;
But though costly and gorgeous its furnishings are,
It must have, to be homelike, an old cookie jar.

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It was an April morning: fresh and clear

© William Wordsworth

It was an April morning: fresh and clear

The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,

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The Murdered Traveller

© William Cullen Bryant

When spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again,
The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.

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Hunting Song

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Tek a cool night, good an' cleah,

  Skiff o' snow upon de groun';

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Bristowe Tragedie: Or The Dethe Of Syr Charles Badwin

© Thomas Chatterton

THE featherd songster chaunticleer

Han wounde hys bugle horne,

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For All Prisoners And Captives

© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

OVER the English trees and the English meadows
Twilight is falling clear,
But my heart walks far in the homeless winds and the shadows
For those who are not here.

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Outside Fargo, North Dakota

© James Wright

Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car,
I strike a match slowly and lift it slowly.
No wind.

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The Bride's Prelude

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte

To listless Aloÿse;

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Rome Unvisited

© Oscar Wilde

I.
 THE corn has turned from grey to red,
 Since first my spirit wandered forth
 From the drear cities of the north,
 And to Italia's mountains fled.