Life poems
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The White Witch
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Heaven help your home to-night,
MacCormac; for I know
A white witch woman is your bride:
You married for your woe.
If You Should Pass
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
For if thy charity be overstrained
And would bring slander where it cannot bless,
Give me but silence where good friendship waned,
Grant me the mercy of forgetfulness.
Darrynane
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Where foams the white torrent, and rushes the rill,
Down the murmuring slopes of the echoing hill-
The Masque of Plenty
© Rudyard Kipling
"How sweet is the shepherd's sweet life!
From the dawn to the even he strays -
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
(adagio dim.) Filled with praise!"
The Burial March Of Dundee
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
Sound the fife, and cry the slogan-
Let the pibroch shake the air
Ashtaroth: A Dramatic Lyric
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Orion: But an understanding tacit.
You have prospered much since the day we met;
You were then a landless knight;
You now have honour and wealth, and yet
I never can serve you right.
Lines On Seeing A Lock Of Milton's Hair
© John Keats
Chief of organic Numbers!
Old Scholar of the Spheres!
Thy spirit never slumbers,
But rolls about our ears
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto II.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III Lais and Lucretia
Did first his beauty wake her sighs?
That's Lais! Thus Lucretia's known:
The beauty in her Lover's eyes
Was admiration of her own.
Rural Morning
© John Clare
And now, when toil and summer's in its prime,
In every vill, at morning's earliest time,
To early-risers many a Hodge is seen,
And many a Dob's heard clattering oer the green.
Marguerite de Roberval
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
Ah, my dear!
I saw you die, and could not help or save
Knowing myself to be the awful care
That weighed thee to thy grave!
Adieu To A Solider
© Walt Whitman
Adieu, dear comrade!
Your mission is fulfill'd-but I, more warlike,
Myself, and this contentious soul of mine,
Hymn - He Sendeth Sun, He Sendeth Shower
© Sarah Flower Adams
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower,
Alike they're needful for the flower:
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!
The Tram (In The Midlands)
© Robert Laurence Binyon
III
A boy with a bunch of primroses!
He sits uneasy, flushed of cheek,
With wandering eyes and does not speak:
His hands are hot; the flowers are his.
The Nativity of Christ
© Robert Southwell
Behold the father is his daughter's son,
The bird that built the nest is hatched therein,
The old of years an hour hath not outrun,
Eternal life to live doth now begin,
The Word is dumb, the mirth of heaven doth weep,
Might feeble is, and force doth faintly creep.
Italy : 7. Marguerite De Tours
© Samuel Rogers
Now the grey granite, starting through the snow,
Discovered many a variegated moss
That to the pilgrim resting on his staff
Shadows our capes and islands; and ere long
Stars
© Emily Jane Brontë
Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored our Earth to joy,
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky ?
