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/ page 69 of 465 /The Princes' Quest - Part the Ninth
© William Watson
And passing through the city he went out
Into the fat fields lying thereabout,
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
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.
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.
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.
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;
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.
A Christmas Hymn
© Alfred Domett
IT was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
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
Song Of The American Indian
© William Lisle Bowles
Stranger, stay, nor wish to climb
The heights of yonder hills sublime;
Musette
© Henri Murger
Yesterday, watching the swallows' flight
That bring the spring and the season fair,
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
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.
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?