Romantic poems
/ page 11 of 14 /Recollections Of Cornwall
© Robert Laurence Binyon
To R. G. R. and H. P. P.
Let not the mind, that would have peace,
Too much repose on former joy,
Nor in pourtraying past delight
Her needed, active power employ!
All Summarised The Soul
© Stéphane Mallarme
All summarised, the soul,
When slowly we breathe it out
In several rings of smoke
By other rings wiped out
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto I.
© George Gordon Byron
Nay, smile not at my sullen brow,
Alas! I cannot smile again:
Yet Heaven avert that ever thou
Shouldst weep, and haply weep in vain.
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.
Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg
© William Wordsworth
Nor has the rolling year twice measured,
From sign to sign, its stedfast course,
Since every mortal power of Coleridge
Was frozen at its marvellous source;
The Basset-Table : An Eclogue
© Alexander Pope
Cardelia.
The Basset-Table spread, the Tallier come;
Why stays Smilinda in the Dressing-Room?
Rise, pensive Nymph, the Tallier waits for you:
Song (Untitled #11)
© George Meredith
The daisy now is out upon the green;
And in the grassy lanes
The child of April rains,
The sweet fresh-hearted violet, is smelt and loved unseen.
Conclusion Of A Letter To The Rev. Mr. C---.
© Mary Barber
'Tis Time to conclude; for I make it a Rule,
To leave off all Writing, when Con. comes from School.
He dislikes what I've written, and says, I had better
To send what he calls a poetical Letter.
The City Bushman
© Henry Lawson
It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went,
For you sought the greener patches and you travelled like a gent;
And you curse the trams and buses and the turmoil and the push,
Though you know the squalid city needn't keep you from the bush;
But we lately heard you singing of the `plains where shade is not',
And you mentioned it was dusty -- `all was dry and all was hot'.
The Minstrel; Or, The Progress Of Genius : Book I.
© James Beattie
I.
Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar!
Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime
Tones
© Madison Julius Cawein
A woman, fair to look upon,
Where waters whiten with the moon;
While down the glimmer of the lawn
The white moths swoon.
Easter Week
© Joyce Kilmer
(In memory of Joseph Mary Plunkett)("Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
It's with O'Leary in the grave.")William Butler Yeats."Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,
It's with O'Leary in the grave."
Then, Yeats, what gave that Easter dawn
On A Distant View Of Harrow
© Lord Byron
Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov'd recollection
Embitters the present, compar'd with the past;
Where science first dawn'd on the powers of reflection,
And friendships were form'd, too romantic to last;
The Tear
© Lord Byron
When Friendship or Love
Our sympathies move;
When Truth, in a glance, should appear,
The lips may beguile,
With a dimple or smile,
But the test of affection's a Tear:
Remo: "Drink, Drink, Drink"
© Sharon Esther Lampert
At Quattro Gatti, she is the poet-in-residence:
In Barcelona, Piccasso started here, painting
A humble sketch of a picket-white fence.
Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O'Kellyn?
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man