Music poems
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Lines On A Late Hospicious Ewent, By A Gebtleman Of The Footguards (Blue)
© William Makepeace Thackeray
I paced upon my beat
With steady step and slow,
All huppandownd of Ranelagh Street:
Ran'lagh St. Pimlico.
City Contrasts
© Anonymous
A barefooted child on the crossing,
Sweeping the mud away,
A lady in silks and diamonds,
Proud of the vain display;
The Swallow
© Charlotte Turner Smith
THE gorse is yellow on the heath,
The banks with speedwell flowers are gay,
Mr. Clays Reception At Raleigh, April, 1844
© George Moses Horton
Salute the august train! a scene so grand,
With every tuneful band;
The mighty brave,
His country bound to save,
A Successful Dad
© Edgar Albert Guest
OTHERS may laugh at my feeble endeavor
To capture life's prizes, and others may sneer;
A Wish (III)
© Frances Anne Kemble
Oh that I were a fairy sprite, to wander
In forest paths, o'erarched with oak and beech;
"I touched the heart that loved me as a player"
© Alice Meynell
The songs I knew not he resumes, set free
From my constraining love, alas for me!
His part in our tune goes with him; my part
Is locked in me for ever; I stand as mute
As one with full strong music in his heart
Whose fingers stray upon a shattered lute.
Inscriptions: IX: Me Tho' In Life's Sequester'd Vale
© Mark Akenside
Me tho' in life's sequester'd vale
The Almighty sire ordain'd to dwell,
Fand, A Feerie Act II
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
In the land of the living are kingdoms twain,
Kingdoms twain,--nay, kingdoms three;
One is of sunshine and one of rain,
And one of the moonlight without a stain.
The moonlight people, of these are we,
The ever--happy, the Sidhe, the Sidhe.
The Coo Of The Cushat
© Ada Cambridge
Over the smooth lawns, broider'd with violets,
Over the hedges of snow-white thorn,
Over the billowy, pink apple-blossoms,
The musical coo of the cushat is borne.
Accolon Of Gaul: Part IV
© Madison Julius Cawein
Hate, born of Wrath and mother red of Crime,
In Hell was whelped ere the hot hands of time,
July
© Madison Julius Cawein
Now 'tis the time when, tall,
The long blue torches of the bellflower gleam
Among the trees; and, by the wooded stream.
In many a fragrant ball.
Blooms of the button-bush fall.
The Unhappy Lot Of Mr. Knott
© James Russell Lowell
My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott,
From business snug withdrawn,
Was much contented with a lot
That would contain a Tudor cot
'Twixt twelve feet square of garden-plot,
And twelve feet more of lawn.
Another Fall of Rain
© Anonymous
THE weather had been sultry for a fortnight's time or more,
And the shearers had been driving might and main,
For some had got the century who'd ne'er got it before,
And now all hands were wishing for the rain.
Beautiful Twenty-Second
© Julia A Moore
Beautiful twenty-second,
Beautiful twenty-second,
May the people ever keep it,
Beautiful twenty-second.
To Perdita, Singing
© James Russell Lowell
Thy voice is like a fountain
Leaping up in sunshine bright,
And I never weary counting
Its clear droppings, lone and single,
Or when in one full gush they mingle,
Shooting in melodious light.
