Pet poems

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Pannychis

© André Marie de Chénier

--_Donnez-les-moi d'abord et puis je vais chanter... Il tend ses deux
mains... on lui donne... et puis, d'une voix claire et douce, il se met
à chanter_:

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The Masque of Queen Bersabe: A Miracle-Play

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

  PRIMUS MILES.
Sir, note this that I will say;
That Lord who maketh corn with hay
And morrows each of yesterday,
  He hath you in his hand.

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The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.

© Anne Bradstreet

Great Alexander was wise Philips son,

He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;

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The Church Militant

© George Herbert

Almightie Lord, who from thy glorious throne

Seest and rulest all things ev'n as one:

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At Noey's House

© James Whitcomb Riley

Behind the kitchen, then, with special pride
Noey stirred up a terrapin inside
The rain-barrel where he lived, with three or four
Little mud-turtles of a size not more
In neat circumference than the tiny toy
Dumb-watches worn by every little boy.

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The World In The House

© Jane Taylor

  Regions of intellect ! serenely fair,
Hence let us rise, and breathe your purer air.
--There shine the stars ! one intellectual glance
At that bright host,--on yon sublime expanse,
Might prove a cure ;--well, say they, let them shine
With all our hearts,--but let us dress and dine.

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The Princess (part 7)

© Alfred Tennyson

'If you be, what I think you, some sweet dream,
I would but ask you to fulfil yourself:
But if you be that Ida whom I knew,
I ask you nothing:  only, if a dream,
Sweet dream, be perfect.  I shall die tonight.
Stoop down and seem to kiss me ere I die.'

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No My Friends No!

© William Gay

Hail foes to oppression, and lovers of freedom!

Your day has arrived, and your power you know:-

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The Power of Art

© George Santayana

Not human art, but living gods alone

Can fashion beauties that by changing live,-

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Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book II - Swayamvara (The Bride's Choice)

© Romesh Chunder Dutt

The mutual jealousies of the princes increased from day to day, and
when Yudhishthir, the eldest of all the princes and the eldest son of
the late Pandu, was recognised heir-apparent, the anger of Duryodhan
and his brothers knew no bounds. And they formed a dark scheme to
kill the sons of Pandu.

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A Tear And A Smile

© Khalil Gibran

I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter.

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A Love Song

© Duncan Campbell Scott

I gave her a rose in early June,

Fed with the sun and the dew,

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The Naiads' Music: From A Faun's Holiday

© Robert Nichols

Come, ye sorrowful, and steep
Your tired brows in a nectarous sleep:
For our kisses lightlier run
Than the traceries of the sun

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The Tombs Of The Kings

© Mathilde Blind

Where the mummied Kings of Egypt, wrapped in linen fold on fold,

Couched for ages in their coffins, crowned with crowns of dusky gold,

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The Columbiad: Book I

© Joel Barlow

Ah, lend thy friendly shroud to veil my sight,
That these pain'd eyes may dread no more the light;
These welcome shades shall close my instant doom,
And this drear mansion moulder to a tornb.

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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 105.

© Alfred Tennyson

Let cares that petty shadows cast,
  By which our lives are chiefly proved,
  A little spare the night I loved,
And hold it solemn to the past.

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The Angel of Life

© Richard Rowe

LIFE’S Angel watched a happy child at play,  


Wreathing the riches of the blushing May:  

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The Snake Charmer

© Sarojini Naidu

WHITHER dost thou hide from the magic of my flute-call?
In what moonlight-tangled meshes of perfume,
Where the clustering keovas guard the squirrel's slumber,
Where the deep woods glimmer with the jasmine's bloom?

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Suffer Little Children, And Forbid Them Not, To Come Unto Me

© Charles Lamb

To Jesus our Saviour some parents presented
 Their children-what fears and what hopes they must feel!
When this the disciples would fain have prevented,
 Our Saviour reproved their unseasonable zeal.

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The Legend Of St. Sophia Of Kioff

© William Makepeace Thackeray

A worthy priest he was and a stout—
 You've seldom looked on such a one;
For, though he fasted thrice in a week,
Yet nevertheless his skin was sleek;
His waist it spanned two yards about
 And he weighed a score of stone.