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The Princes' Quest - Part the Ninth

© William Watson

And passing through the city he went out

Into the fat fields lying thereabout,

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Modern Athens

© Richard Monckton Milnes

If Fate, though jealous of the second birth
Of names in history raised to high degree,
Permits that Athens yet once more shall be,
Let her be placed as suits the thought and worth

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The Kalevala - Rune XXXIV

© Elias Lönnrot

KULLERVO FINDS HIS TRIBE-FOLK.


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The Great War

© Vernon Scannell

Whenever war is spoken of

I find

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The Ballad Of The Oysterman

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

IT was a tall young oysterman lived by the river-side,
His shop was just upon the bank, his boat was on the tide;
The daughter of a fisherman, that was so straight and slim,
Lived over on the other bank, right opposite to him.

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Inasmuch As Ye Did It Not . . .

© Edith Nesbit

If Jesus came to London,

Came to London to-day,

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Spring Longing

© Emma Lazarus

Lilac hazes veil the skies.
Languid sighs
Breathes the mild, caressing air.
Pink as coral's branching sprays,
Orchard ways
With the blossomed peach are fair.

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A Vision of St. Eligius

© George MacDonald

I see thy house, but I am blown about,
A wind-mocked kite, between the earth and sky,
All out of doors-alas! of thy doors out,
And drenched in dews no summer suns can dry.

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We Two-How Long We Were Fool'd

© Walt Whitman

WE two-how long we were fool'd!

Now transmuted, we swiftly escape, as Nature escapes;

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Bring Flowers

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Bring flowers, young flowers, for the festal board,
To wreathe the cup ere the wine is pour'd;
Bring flowers! they are springing in wood and vale,
Their breath floats out on the southern gale,
And the touch of the sunbeam hath waked the rose,
To deck the hall where the bright wine flows.

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A Christmas Hymn

© Alfred Domett

IT was the calm and silent night!  

 Seven hundred years and fifty-three  

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Music

© Alaric Alexander Watts

Mysterious keeper of the key

That opes the gates of Memory,

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Eclogue X

© Virgil

GALLUS

This now, the very latest of my toils,

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Tale XX

© George Crabbe

flown:
All swept away, to be perceived no more,
Like idle structures on the sandy shore,
The chance amusement of the playful boy,
That the rude billows in their rage destroy.
  Poor George confess'd, though loth the truth to

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Song Of The American Indian

© William Lisle Bowles

Stranger, stay, nor wish to climb

  The heights of yonder hills sublime;

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Musette

© Henri Murger

Yesterday, watching the swallows' flight

That bring the spring and the season fair,

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With Dickens

© Henry Lawson

In Windsor Terrace, number four,

  I’ve taken my abode—

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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXXIII

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Such was the legend. I had read it through
Twice ere I thought of thinking what it meant.
And as I turned with a sigh because I knew
That I alone perhaps of all who went

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A Vagrant Heart

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

O to be a woman! to be left to pique and pine,

When the winds are out and calling to this vagrant heart of mine.

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Horace I, 31.

© Eugene Field

As forth he pours the new made wine,
  What blessing asks the lyric poet--
  What boon implores in this fair shrine
  Of one full likely to bestow it?