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© Joyce Kilmer
(For Amelia Josephine Burr)The road is wide and the stars are out
and the breath of the night is sweet,
And this is the time when wanderlust should seize upon my feet.
But I'm glad to turn from the open road and the starlight on my
The House with Nobody in It
© Joyce Kilmer
Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for
a minute
The Snowman in the Yard
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Thomas Augustine Daly)The Judge's house has a splendid porch, with pillars
and steps of stone,
And the Judge has a lovely flowering hedge that came from across
the seas;
Do the Dead Know what Time It Is?
© Kenneth Patchen
The old guy put down his beer.
Son, he said,
(and a girl came over to the table where we were:
asked us by Jack Christ to buy her a drink.)
Near The Wall Of A House
© Yehuda Amichai
Near the wall of a house painted
to look like stone,
I saw visions of God.
Of Three Or Four In The Room
© Yehuda Amichai
Out of three or four in the room
One is always standing at the window.
Forced to see the injustice amongst the thorns,
The fires on the hills.
My Childhood's Home
© Caroline Norton
I HAVE tasted each varied pleasure,
And drunk of the cup of delight;
The Bush Girl
© Henry Lawson
Grey eyes that grow sadder than sunset or rain,
Fond heart that is ever more true
Firm faith that grows firmer for watching in vain--
Shell wait by the slliprails for you.
To Ronge
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Strike home, strong-hearted man! Down to the root
Of old oppression sink the Saxon steel.
The Poor Man's Lamb
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Where art thou Nathan? where's that Spirit now,
Giv'n to brave Vice, tho' on a Prince's Brow?
In what low Cave, or on what Desert Coast,
Now Virtue wants it, is thy Presence lost?
The Petition for an Absolute Retreat
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Give me, O indulgent Fate!
Give me yet before I die
A sweet, but absolute retreat,
'Mongst paths so lost and trees so high
In Praise Of England
© Alfred Austin
From tangled brake and trellised bower
Bring every bud that blows,
The Search After Happiness. A Pastoral Drama
© Hannah More
"To rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot,
To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix
The generous purpose in the female breast." ~Thomson.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam 1 - 250 (Whinfield Translation)
© Omar Khayyám
At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled,
"Arise, my brethren of the revelers' guild,
That I may fill our measure full of wine,
Or e'er the measure of our days be filled."
The Equipage
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Since the Road of Life's so ill;
I, to pass it, use this Skill,
My frail Carriage driving home
To its latest Stage, the Tomb.
The Old Oak Tree
© Annie McCarer Darlington
Woodman, spare that tree!
Touch not a single bough:
In youth it sheltered me,
And I'd protect it now.
Man's Injustice Towards Providence
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Vain-glorious Man do's thus the Praise engross,
When Prosp'rous Days around him spread their Beams:
But, if revolv'd to opposite Extreams,
Still his own Sence he fondly will prefer,
And Providence, not He, in his Affairs must Err!