Nature poems
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To Vittoria Colonna. (Sonnet VI.)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When the prime mover of my many sighs
Heaven took through death from out her earthly place,
Ode To Georgiana, Duchess Of Devonshire, On The Twenty-Fourth Stanza In Her 'Passage Over Mount Goth
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
'And hail the chapel! hail the platform wild
Where Tell directed the avenging dart,
With well-strung arm, that first preserved his child,
Then aimed the arrow at the tyrant's heart.'
Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part IV.
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
High grew the snow beneath the low-hung sky,
And all was silent in the Wilderness;
In trance of stillness Nature heard her God
Rebuilding her spent fires, and veil'd her face
While the Great Worker brooded o'er His work.
The Wonder-Working Magician - Act III
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
DEMON. Why, how is this, that using your free-will
More than my precept meant,
Say for what end, what object, what intent,
Through ignorance or boldness can it be,
You thus come forth the sun's bright face to see?
Toussaint LOuverture
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'T WAS night. The tranquil moonlight smile
With which Heaven dreams of Earth, shed down
Its beauty on the Indian isle,
On broad green field and white-walled town;
The Secret People
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
They have given us into the hand of new unhappy lords,
Lords without anger or honour, who dare not carry their swords.
They fight by shuffling papers; they have bright dead alien eyes;
They look at our labour and laughter as a tired man looks at flies.
And the load of their loveless pity is worse than the ancient wrongs,
Their doors are shut in the evening; and they know no songs.
Epilogue
© Herman Melville
Yea, ape and angel, strife and old debate--
The harps of heaven and dreary gongs of hell;
Science the feud can only aggravate--
No umpire she betwixt the chimes and knell:
The running battle of the star and clod
Shall run forever--if there be no God.
The Toad
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Then also was it that that child with the stone,
He who now tells this story, from his hands
Let the flag drop. A voice had cried to him
Too loud for denial: ``Fool. Be merciful.''
The Ring And The Book - Chapter III - The Other Half-Rome
© Robert Browning
ANOTHER DAY that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
Pelasgian And Cyclopean Walls
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Ye cliffs of masonry, enormous piles,
Which no rude censure of familiar Time
Nor record of our puny race defiles,
In dateless mystery ye stand sublime,
Memorials of an age of which we see
Only the types in things that once were Ye.
The Art Of War. Book II.
© Henry James Pye
The season form'd to fan more pleasing fires,
Parent of blooming hopes and young desires,
When smiling Graces every flower combine,
The blooming wreaths of Love and Peace to twine,
Tempts only now to scenes of blood and death
The daring Warrior urg'd by Glory's breath.
A La Sante
© André Marie de Chénier
Allons, muse rustique, enfant de la nature,
Détache ces cheveux, ceins ton front de verdure,
The Wooing Of Gheezis
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
The red chief Gheezis, chief of the golden wampum, lay
And watched the west-wind blow adrift the clouds,
Scenes In London IV - The City Churchyard
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
I PRAY thee lay me not to rest
Among these mouldering bones;
Too heavily the earth is prest
By all these crowded stones.
Vanity Of Spirit
© Henry Vaughan
Quite spent with thoughts, I left my cell and lay
Where a shrill spring tuned to the early day.
California Madrigal
© Francis Bret Harte
Oh, come, my beloved, from thy winter abode,
From thy home on the Yuba, thy ranch overflowed;
For the waters have fallen, the winter has fled,
And the river once more has returned to its bed.
