Life poems
/ page 76 of 844 /Eleventh Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Is this a time to plant and build,
Add house to house, and field to field,
When round our walls the battle lowers,
When mines are hid beneath our towers,
And watchful foes are stealing round
To search and spoil the holy ground?
Picture Books
© Edgar Albert Guest
I HOLD the finest picture-books
Are woods an' fields an' runnin' brooks;
Rokeby: Canto III.
© Sir Walter Scott
CHORUS.
"O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green;
I'd rather rove with Edmund there,
Than reign our English queen."
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =First Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
TANS. The enthusiasms most suitable to be first brought forward and
considered are those that I now place before you in the order that seems
to me most fitting.
The Fairest Of Roses
© Hans Adolph Brorson
Now found is the fairest of roses
Its beauty midst thorns it discloses,
Our Jesus this offshoot and dower
Midst us human sinners did flower.
An Incindent At Pisa
© Richard Monckton Milnes
``From the common burial--ground
Mark'd by some peculiar bound,
Beppo! who are these that lie
Like one numerous family?''
The Drovers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THROUGH heat and cold, and shower and sun,
Still onward cheerly driving!
There's life alone in duty done,
And rest alone in striving.
A Walk By Moonlight
© Henry Louis Vivian Derozio
I had been out to see a friend
With whom I others saw:
Like minds to like minds ever tend -
An universal law.
The Princes' Quest - Part the Seventh
© William Watson
But Sleep, who makes a mist about the sense,
Doth ope the eyelids of the soul, and thence
Love, Love
© Pedro Calderon de la Barca
What is the glory far above
All else in human life?
Love! Love!
There is no form in which the fire
The Average Man
© George Essex Evans
His hat looks worn, and his coat-sleeves shine,
As I see him step from his bus at nine;
The Symphony
© Alfred Noyes
Wonder in happy eyes
Fades, fades away:
And the angel-coloured skies
Whisper farewell.
Transformation
© Henry Van Dyke
Only a little shrivelled seed,
It might be flower, or grass, or weed;
Song.Oh, long enough my life has been
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Oh! long enough my life has been,
Since I thy love have known;
I would not change the pleasing scene,
And find its beauties flown.
Messages
© Francis Thompson
What shall I your true-love tell,
Earth-forsaking maid?
What shall I your true-love tell,
When life's spectre's laid?
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 9
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHILE these affairs in distant places passd,
The various Iris Juno sends with haste,
AThe Anniverse. AN ELEGY.
© Henry King
So soon grown old! hast thou been six years dead?
Poor earth, once by my Love inhabited!
And must I live to calculate the time
To which thy blooming youth could never climbe,
For Four Guilds: II. The Bridge-Builders
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
In the world's whitest morning
As hoary with hope,