Life poems
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Elegy IV
© Henry James Pye
The solemn hand of sable-suited night
Enwraps the silent earth with mantle drear;
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I will release my soul of argument.
He that would love must follow with shut eyes.
My reason of the years was discontent,
My treasure for all hope a vain surmise.
Longing
© James Russell Lowell
Of all the myriad moods of mind
That through the soul come thronging,
Geraldine
© Henry Kendall
I think we lived a loftier life through hours of Long Ago,
For in the largened evening earth our spirits seemed to grow.
Well, that has passed, and here I stand, upon a lonely place,
While Night is stealing round the land, like Time across my face;
But I can calmly recollect our shadowy parting scene,
And swooning thoughts that had no voice no utterance, Geraldine.
Tale XV
© George Crabbe
transgress'd,
And while the anger kindled in his breast,
The pain must be endured that could not be
On Six Cambridge Lasses Bathing Themselves
© Thomas Randolph
When bashfull daylight now was gone
And night, that hides a blush, came on.
The Tombs Of The Kings
© Mathilde Blind
Where the mummied Kings of Egypt, wrapped in linen fold on fold,
Couched for ages in their coffins, crowned with crowns of dusky gold,
For music
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
ALONG the shore, along the shore
I see the wavelets meeting:
But thee I see--ah, never more,
For all my wild heart's beating.
The Columbiad: Book I
© Joel Barlow
Ah, lend thy friendly shroud to veil my sight,
That these pain'd eyes may dread no more the light;
These welcome shades shall close my instant doom,
And this drear mansion moulder to a tornb.
The Burial Place
© William Cullen Bryant
A FRAGMENT.
Erewhile, on England's pleasant shores, our sires
Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades
The Angel of Life
© Richard Rowe
LIFES Angel watched a happy child at play,
Wreathing the riches of the blushing May:
Italy : 16. St. Mark's Rest
© Samuel Rogers
Over how many tracts, vast, measureless,
Ages on ages roll, and none appear
Save the wild hunter ranging for his prey;
While on this spot of earth, the work of man,
King Saul at Gilboa
© Henry Kendall
With noise of battle and the dust of fray,
Half hid in fog, the gloomy mountain lay;
Life
© Edith Wharton
We climbed the slopes of solitude, and there
Life met a god, who challenged her and said:
"Thy pipe against my lyre!" But "Wait!" she laughed,
And in my live flank dug a finger-hole,
And wrung new music from it. Ah, the pain!
Comrades An Episode
© Robert Nichols
The silent sun over the earth held sway,
Occasional rifles cracked, and far away
A heedless speck, a 'plane, slid on alone
Like a fly traversing a cliff of stone.
"The Laughing Hours Before Her Feet"
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
The laughing Hours before her feet,
Are scattering spring-time roses,
The Poet And The Baby
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
How's a man to write a sonnet, can you tell,--
How's he going to weave the dim, poetic spell,--
When a-toddling on the floor
Is the muse he must adore,
And this muse he loves, not wisely, but too well?
The Combat. By Etty
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
THEY fled,--for there was for the brave
Left only a dishonour'd grave.
