Life poems
/ page 667 of 844 /
A Song Of Delight
© Alice Guerin Crist
Oh! Have you stolen out, one summer morning
To pick white crocus neath the garden wall,
Or shaken softly the big scented roses
And watched the dew-drops fall?
Lines to Him Who Will Understand Them
© Mary Darby Robinson
No, I will breathe the spicy gale;
Plunge the clear stream, new health exhale;
O'er my pale cheek diffuse the rose,
And drink OBLIVION to my woes.
Life
© Mary Darby Robinson
"What is this world?thy school, O misery!
"Our only lesson is to learn to suffer." - YOUNG.
LOVE, thou sportive fickle boy,
Source of anguish, child of joy,
Lewin and Gynneth
© Mary Darby Robinson
"WHEN will my troubled soul have rest?"
The beauteous LEWIN cried;
As thro' the murky shade of night
With frantic step she hied.
At The Grave Of Charles Lamb, In Edmonton
© William Watson
Not here, O teeming City, was it meet
Thy lover, thy most faithful, should repose,
Golfre, Gothic Swiss Tale
© Mary Darby Robinson
Where freezing wastes of dazzl'ing Snow
O'er LEMAN'S Lake rose, tow'ring;
The BARON GOLFRE'S Castle strong
Was seen, the silv'ry peaks among,
With ramparts, darkly low'ring!--
Fridleif and Helga
© George Borrow
The woods were in leaf, and they cast a sweet shade;
Among them walk'd Helga, the beautiful maid.
Elegy to the Memory of Richard Boyle, Esq.
© Mary Darby Robinson
NEAR yon bleak mountain's dizzy height,
That hangs o'er AVON's silent wave;
By the pale Crescent's glimm'ring light,
I sought LORENZO's lonely grave.
Elegy to the Memory of David Garrick, Esq.
© Mary Darby Robinson
DEAR SHADE OF HIM, who grac'd the mimick scene,
And charm'd attention with resistless pow'r;
Whose wond'rous art, whose fascinating mien,
Gave glowing rapture to the short-liv'd hour!
The Bullfrog Bell
© Joseph Furphy
Now the truce of night brings respite to the sordid care of day,
And in listlessness I pace the river side,
Where the solitude is wounded by no lighted window's ray;
But illicit fancy will not be denied
For the darkening flat reiterates a freer life's farewell,
In the long familiar knocking of a bullfrog bell.
To Mrs. Dulaney
© Frances Anne Kemble
What was thine errand here?
Thy beauty was more exquisite than aught
Deborah's Parrot, a Village Tale
© Mary Darby Robinson
Thus, SLANDER turns against its maker;
And if this little Story reaches
A SPINSTER, who her PARROT teaches,
Let her a better task pursue,
And here, the certain VENGEANCE view
Which surely will, in TIME, O'ERTAKE HER.
Ainsi Va le Monde
© Mary Darby Robinson
While motley mumm'ry holds her tinsel reign,
SHAKSPERE might write, and GARRICK act in vain:
True Wit recedes, when blushing Reason views
This spurious offspring of the banish'd Muse.
To Harriet -- It Is Not Blasphemy To Hope That Heaven
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
It is not blasphemy to hope that Heaven
More perfectly will give those nameless joys
Which throb within the pulses of the blood
And sweeten all that bitterness which Earth
At the End
© Marilyn L. Taylor
In another time, a linen winding sheet
would already have been drawn
about her, the funeral drums by now
Book Of Contemplation - Firdusi
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
OH world, with what baseness and guilt thou art rife!
Thou nurtures, trainest, and illest the while.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VIII - Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis
© Robert Browning
(Virgil, now, should not be too difficult
To Cinoncino,say the early books . . .
Pen, truce to further gambols! Poscimur!)
Laureate
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
DEATH met a little child who cried
For a bright star which earth denied,
And Death, so sympathetic, kissed it,
Saying: "With me
All bright things be!"--
And only the child's mother missed it.
A Love Letter to Her Husband
© Anne Bradstreet
Phoebus make haste, the day's too long, begone,
The silent night's the fittest time for moan;
