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Our Jack
© Henry Kendall
Twelve years ago our Jack was lost. All night,
Twelve years ago, the Spirit of the Storm
Italy : 49. The Feluca
© Samuel Rogers
Day glimmered; and beyond the precipice
(Which my mule followed as in love with fear,
Or as in scorn, yet more and more inclining
To tempt the danger where it menaced most)
The Rendition
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I HEARD the train's shrill whistle call,
I saw an earnest look beseech,
And rather by that look than speech
My neighbor told me all.
Dream Song I
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Long years ago, within a distant clime,
Ere Love had touched me with his wand sublime,
In Verona.
© Robert Crawford
Juliet will never rise
In her passion's paradise;
Dust is in her ears and eyes.
And time too, as all men know,
The Wanderers Return
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
An old heart's mourning is a hideous thing,
And weeds upon an aged weeper cling
Like night upon a grave. The city there,
Gaunt as a woman who has once been fair,
The Child-Mother
© George MacDonald
Heavily slumbered noonday bright
Upon the lone field, glory-dight,
A burnished grassy sea:
The child, in gorgeous golden hours,
Through heaven-descended starry flowers,
Went walking on the lea.
On The Death Of The Bishop Of Ely. Anno Aet. 17. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
My lids with grief were tumid yet,
And still my sullied cheek was wet
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Dialogue I
© John Kenyon
Yet the heart vents still more indignant blame,
Where Lawgivers their sullen codes proclaim,
And idly would constrain the creed within,
As if Belief were Crime, and ToleranceSin.
A Dream Of Sappho
© Richard Monckton Milnes
``Stranger! the voice that trembles in your ear,
You would have placed, had you been fancy--free,
First in the chorus of the happiest sphere,
The home of deified mortality:
English Eclogues V - The Witch
© Robert Southey
FATHER.
'Tis rare good luck;
I would have gladly given a crown for one
If t'would have done as well. But where did'st find it?
The Glowworm
© Madison Julius Cawein
How long had I sat there and had not beheld
The gleam of the glow-worm till something compelled!...
The Spendthrift
© Edgar Albert Guest
HE died a poor man, so they say,
Few were the dollars stored away
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 4
© Publius Vergilius Maro
BUT anxious cares already seizd the queen:
She fed within her veins a flame unseen;
Ginevra
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
THE DIRGE.
Old winter was gone
In his weakness back to the mountains hoar,
And the spring came down
From the planet that hovers upon the shore
Rizpah
© William Cullen Bryant
And he delivered them into the hands of the Gibeonites, and they
hanged them in the hill before the Lord; and they fell all seven
together, and were put to death in the days of the harvest, in the
first days, in the beginning of barley-harvest.
English Eclogues III - The Funeral
© Robert Southey
The coffin as I past across the lane
Came sudden on my view. It was not here,
When Will It End?
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
O when will it end, this appalling strife,
With its reckless waste of human life,
Its riving of highest, holiest ties,
Its tears of anguish and harrowing sighs,
Its ruined homes from which hope has fled,
Its broken hearts and its countless dead?
