Life poems

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Bigger Than His Dad

© Edgar Albert Guest

He has heard his country calling, and has fallen into line,
  And he's doing something bigger than his daddy ever did;
  He has caught a greater vision than the finest one of mine,
  And I know to-day I'm prouder of than sorry for the kid.

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At The Seaside

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

O SOLITARY shining sea
That ripples in the sun,
O gray and melancholy sea,
O'er which the shadows run;

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Angered Reason

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Angered Reason walked with me
A street so squat, unshapen, bald,
So blear--windowed and grimy--walled,
So dismal--doored, it seemed to be

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A Bridal Song

© Hugh McCrae

SHE is more sparkling beautiful  


 Than dawn-light seen thro’ tears  

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Truth

© John Kenyon

"Truth may lie fossil in some cave, no doubt;

But 'twere a mad success to win her out." Rhymed Plea for Tolerance.

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Deep In the Quiet Wood

© James Weldon Johnson

Are you bowed down in heart?
Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life?
Then come away, come to the peaceful wood,
Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now,

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Crazed

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

'The Spring again hath started on the course
Wherein she seeketh Summer thro' the Earth.
I will arise and go upon my way.
It may be that the leaves of Autumn hid
His footsteps from me; it may be the snows.

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The Broken Chords

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

LIKE a worn wind-harp on a barren lea,
Unstirred by subtle breathings of the sea,
Though sweet south-breezes swell the floodtide's flow,
The lyric power in this worn heart of mine

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Mare Rubrum

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

FLASH out a stream of blood-red wine,

For I would drink to other days,

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Remonstrance

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

Bless the dear old verdant land,
Brother, wert thou born of it?
As thy shadow life doth stand,
Twining round its rosy band,

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Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part II.

© Henry James Pye

  Yet midst the scene of dread, when certain fate
  Rides on the tempest in terrific state,
  Bold in the face of death the naval train
  Exert their force, and brave the insulting main;
  Though rising horrors on their efforts lower,
  And the deaf whirlwind mock their useless power.

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The Monk's Walk

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

In this sombre garden close
  What has come and passed, who knows?
  What red passion, what white pain
  Haunted this dim walk in vain?

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The True Sportsman

© William Henry Ogilvie

The real ones, the right ones, the straight ones and the true,

The pukka, peerless sportsmen-their numbers are but few;

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Clerk Saunders

© Andrew Lang

Clerk Saunders and may Margaret
Walked ower yon garden green;
And sad and heavy was the love
That fell thir twa between.

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In The Forest

© Charles Sangster

There is no sadness here. Oh, that my heart

Were calm and peaceful as these dreamy groves!

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Prologue

© William Ernest Henley

Something is dead . . .

The grace of sunset solitudes, the march

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Ghosts

© Edith Nesbit

YES--kiss my forehead where the pain

Is grinding outwards from my brain!

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Ars Longa

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

Ars Longa

[A Song of Pilgrimage]

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Meet Me At Sunset

© Alaric Alexander Watts

Meet me at sunset, the hour we love best,

Ere day's last crimson blushes have died in the west;

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On Life's Long Round

© Mathilde Blind

On life's long round by chance I found
 A dell impearled with dew;
Where hyacinths, gushing from the ground,
 Lent to the earth heaven's native hue
 Of holy blue.