Life poems
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Sonnet. "Like one who walketh in a plenteous land"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Like one who walketh in a plenteous land,
By flowing waters, under shady trees,
The Emigrant
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
FAREWELL, ah, happy shades! ah, scenes belov'd,
Of infant sports and bright unclouded hours!
Where oft in childhood's happy days I rov'd,
Thro' forest-walks, and wild secluded bow'rs!
Poulain The Prisoner
© Augusta Davies Webster
One single ray: and where its light could fall
His rusty nail carved saints and angels there,
And warriors, and slim girls with braided hair,
And blossomy boughs, and birds athwart the air.
Rude work, but yet a world. And light for all
Was one slant ray upon a prison wall.
Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth
© George Gordon Byron
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
Excerpts from "LES HEURES CLAIRES" (English translations)
© Emile Verhaeren
Oh, splendour of our joy and our delight,
Woven of gold amid the silken air!
See the dear house among its gables light,
And the green garden, and the orchard there!
The Visionary Boy
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh! lend that lute, sweet Archimage, to me!
Enough of care and heaviness
Condolatory Address To Sarah, Countess Of Jersey, On The Prince Regent's Returning Her Picture To Mr
© George Gordon Byron
When the vain triumph of the imperial lord,
Whom servile Rome obey'd, and yet abhorr'd,
Gave to the vulgar gaze each glorious bust,
That left a likeness of the brave or just;
Artemis In Sierra
© Francis Bret Harte
Halt! Here we are. Now wheel your mare a trifle
Just where you stand; then doff your hat and swear
Never yet was scene you might cover with your rifle
Half as complete or as marvelously fair.
The Hamadryad.
© Robert Crawford
Last night I was like one who prayed
Beneath a mystic tree
Whose windless leaves a murmur made,
As if it there might be
Life's Offices.
© Robert Crawford
Most of life's offices may overlap,
And form a covert for the growth of thought;
But there are some no thought and no device
May ever join; or if perchance they do,
Praise O Doset
© William Barnes
We Do'set, though we mid be hwomely,
Be'nt asheäm'd to own our pleäce;
The Pleasures of Memory - Part I.
© Samuel Rogers
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green,
With magic tints to harmonize the scene.
Still'd is the hum that thro' the hamlet broke,
When round the ruins of their antient oak
The Voyage of Telegonus
© Henry Kendall
Ill fares it with the man whose lips are set
To bitter themes and words that spite the gods;
Twilight In The North
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O THE long northern twilight between the day and the night,
When the heat and the weariness of the world are ended quite:
When the hills grow dim as dreams, and the crystal river seems
Like that River of Life from out the Throne where the blessèd walk in white.
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
Never in tenderer quiet lapsed the day
From Pennsylvania's vales of spring away,
Where, forest-walled, the scattered hamlets lay
Auld Maitland
© Andrew Lang
There lived a king in southern land,
King Edward hight his name;
Unwordily he wore the crown,
Till fifty years were gane.
The Wanderer Looking Into Other Homes
© Caroline Norton
A LONE, wayfaring wretch I saw, who stood
Wearily pausing by the wicket gate;
And from his eyes there streamed a bitter flood,
Contrasting his with many a happier fate.
