Morning poems
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Horace, Epist. I, VII Imitation Of Horace To Lord Oxford
© Jonathan Swift
Harley, the nation's great support,
Returning home one day from court,
His mind with public cares possest,
All Europe's business in his breast,
Ballad Of Jesus Of Nazareth
© Edgar Lee Masters
It matters not what place he drew
At first life's mortal breath,
Some say it was in Bethlehem,
And some in Nazareth.
But shame and sorrow were his lot
And shameful was his death.
The Ballad of Ahmed Shah
© Rudyard Kipling
This is the ballad of Ahmed Shah
Dealer in tats in the Sudder Bazar,
By the gate that leads to the Gold Minar
How he was done by a youth from Morar.
The Feud: A Border Ballad
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
They sat by their wine in the tavern that night,
But not in good fellowship true:
The Rhenish was strong and the Burgundy bright,
And hotter the argument grew.
A Ballad Of The Boston Tea-Party
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
It climbs and clasps the union-jack,
Its blazoned pomp is humbled,
The flags go down on land and sea
Like corn before the reapers;
So burned the fire that brewed the tea
That Boston served her keepers!
Six Sonnets On Dante's Divine Comedy
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I
Oft have I seen at some cathedral door
Admetus: To my friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson
© Emma Lazarus
He who could beard the lion in his lair,
To bind him for a girl, and tame the boar,
A Devout Lover
© Thomas Randolph
I have a mistress, for perfections rare
In every eye, but in my thoughts most fair.
Dawn
© Arthur Symons
Here in the little room
You sleep the sleep of innocent tired youth,
While I, in very sooth,
Tired, and awake beside you in the gloom,
Watch for the dawn, and feel the morning make
A loneliness about me for your sake.
The Long Road West
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Once I heard a Hobo, singing by the tie-trail,
Squatting by the red rail rusty with the dew:
Bedtime
© George MacDonald
"Come, children, put away your toys;
Roll up that kite's long line;
The day is done for girls and boys-
Look, it is almost nine!
Come, weary foot, and sleepy head,
Get up, and come along to bed."
A Living Picture
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
No, I'll not say your name. I have said it now,
As you mine, first in childish treble, then
Up through a score and more familiar years
Till baby-voices mock us. Time may come
Sordello: Book the Sixth
© Robert Browning
The thought of Eglamor's least like a thought,
And yet a false one, was, "Man shrinks to nought
The Lone Red Rock
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
A song of the range, an old-time song,
To the patter of pony's feet,
The Only Day In Existence
© William Taylor Collins
The early sun is so pale and shadowy,
I could be looking up at a ghost
Sable Island
© Joseph Howe
Dark Isle of Mourning-aptly art thou named,
For thou hast been the cause of many a tear;
