Life poems

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On Leaving Bath.

© Mary Barber

The Britons, in their Nature shy,
View Strangers with a distant Eye:
We think them partial and severe;
And judge their Manners by their Air:
Are undeceiv'd by Time alone;
Their Value rises, as they're known.

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Mind.

© Robert Crawford

Without us and within us mind is all;
The truth of life and knowledge still are one,
And though all be a dream, yet in the dream
All is true to the after and before,

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Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. - Canto I.

© Matthew Prior

Without these aids, to be more serious,
Her power they hold had been precarious;
The eyes might have conspired her ruin,
And she not known what they were doing.
Foolish it had been and unkind
That they should see and she be blind.

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Verses Written on Her Death-Bed

© Mary Monck

Thou, who dost all my worldly thoughts employ,

Thou pleasing source of all my earthly joy:

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The Singular Sangfroid Of Baby Bunting

© Guy Wetmore Carryl

Batholomew Benjamin Bunting

Had only three passions in life,

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Prayer For Deliverance From The Pestilence (From "Oedipus The King")

© Sophocles


Lord of the Pythian treasure,

What meaneth the word thou hast spoken?

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The Souls' Rising

© George MacDonald

See! see in yonder misty cloud
One whirlwind sweep, and we shall hear
The voice that waxes yet more loud
And louder still approaching near!

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October

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

October  is the treasurer of the year,

And all the months pay bounty to her store;

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The Lady Of Rathmore Hall

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Throughout the country for many a mile
There is not a nobler, statelier pile
  Than ivy crowned Rathmore Hall;
And the giant oaks that shadow the wold,
Though hollowed by time, are not as old
  As its Norman turrets tall.

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Prison Of Cervantes

© James Russell Lowell

Seat of all woes? Though Nature's firm decree

The narrowing soul with narrowing dungeon bind,

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Meditation At Perugia

© Duncan Campbell Scott

The sunset colours mingle in the sky,

  And over all the Umbrian valleys flow;

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A Welcome To Lowell

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Take our hands, James Russell Lowell,
Our hearts are all thy own;
To-day we bid thee welcome
Not for ourselves alone.

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The Street-Children's Dance

© Mathilde Blind

NOW the earth in fields and hills
Stirs with pulses of the Spring,
Next-embowering hedges ring
With interminable trills;
Sunlight runs a race with rain,
All the world grows young again.

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The Tulip Bed At Greeley Square

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler


That bright triangle of scented bloom
That lies surrounded by grime and gloom?

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Renaissance

© Thomas Sturge Moore

  O happy soul, forget thy self!

  This that has haunted all the past,

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The Foredawn Hour

© John Payne

I

BETWEEN the night-end and the break of day

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Agro-Dolce

© James Russell Lowell

One kiss from all others prevents me,
  And sets all my pulses astir,
And burns on my lips and torments me:
  'Tis the kiss that I fain would give her.

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New Year

© Edith Nesbit

IN the coming year enfolded
  Bright and sad hours lie,
Waiting till you reach and live them
  As the year rolls by.

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From Omar Khayyam

© Edward Fitzgerald

A BOOK of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread-and Thou
  Beside me singing in the Wilderness-
O, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

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The Epic Of Sadness

© Nizar Qabbani

Your love has taught me, my lady, the worst habits
it has taught me to read my coffee cups
thousands of times a night
to experiment with alchemy,
to visit fortune tellers