Music poems
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When It's Bad To Forget
© Edgar Albert Guest
DID you ever meet a brother as you hurried on your way
And invite him up to dinner, and his wife;
The Song Of Hiawatha XV: Hiawatha's Lamentation
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In those days the Evil Spirits,
All the Manitos of mischief,
To Meet, Or Otherwise
© Thomas Hardy
Whether to sally and see thee, girl of my dreams,
Or whether to stay
Numbers
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Trefoil and Quatrefoil!
What shaped those destinied small silent leaves
For The Fallen
© Robert Laurence Binyon
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
A Fair Melody: To Be Sung By Good Christians
© Hans Sachs
Awake, my heart's delight, awake
Thou Christian host, and hear
The Nightingale In The Study
© James Russell Lowell
'Come forth!' my catbird calls to me,
'And hear me sing a cavatina
That, in this old familiar tree,
Shall hang a garden of Alcina.
Mary Rivers
© Henry Kendall
Path beside the silver waters, flashing in Octobers sun
Walk, by green and golden margins where the sister streamlets run
The Enchanted Island. By Danby
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
AND there the island lay, the waves around
Had never known a storm; for the north wind
Guilt And Sorrow, Or, Incidents Upon Salisbury Plain
© William Wordsworth
I
A TRAVELLER on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain
Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts III.-V.
© John Logan
What venerable father stands aghast
In yonder porch? Beneath the weight of years,
And crush of sorrow to the earth he bends.
He wrings his hands; casts a wild look to heaven,
And rends his hoary locks. He comes this way.
Heavens, it is Albemarle!-
A Spring Wooing
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Come on walkin' wid me, Lucy; 't ain't no time to mope erroun'
Wen de sunshine 's shoutin' glory in de sky,
Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament (excerpt)
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."
With Head Erect I Fought The Fight
© John Philip Bourke
And so we write as Nature sets her gauge
No worse than most, and better, p'raps, than some;
But should a man remain for ever dumb
When only rhyming fills his aimless page?
Greeting Poem
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There was a sound in the wind to-day,
Like a joyous cymbal ringing!
On Tradition
© Franklin Pierce Adams
LINES PROVOKED BY HEARING A YOUNG MAN WHISTLING
No carmine radical in Art,
Beauty And The Beast
© Charles Lamb
"My Lord, I swear upon my knees,
"I did not mean to harm your trees;
"But a lov'd Daughter, fair as spring,
"Intreated me a Rose to bring;
"O didst thou know, my lord, the Maid!"-
Danse Du Venteje
© Arthur Symons
Her vices to her cling.
There's blood that stains her mouth;
Suspense of sense, a sting
On all her body's drouth
Of blood-red colouring.
