Romantic poems

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In The Churchyard At Tarrytown

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Here lies the gentle humorist, who died

  In the bright Indian Summer of his fame!

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Marmion: Introduction to Canto V.

© Sir Walter Scott

When dark December glooms the day,

And takes our autumn joys away;

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To C. Lloyd, On His Proposing To Domesticate With The Author

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

A mount, not wearisome and bare and steep,
But a green mountain variously up-piled
Where o'er the jutting rocks soft mosses creep
Or colored lichens with slow oozing weep;

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Metamorphoses: Book The Fourth

© Ovid

  The End of the Fourth Book.


 Translated into English verse under the direction of
 Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
 William Congreve and other eminent hands

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A Romance In The Rough

© Arthur Patchett Martin

A sturdy fellow, with a sunburnt face,
And thews and sinews of a giant mould;
A genial mind, that harboured nothing base,—
A pocket void of gold.

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Ghost Glen

© Henry Kendall

"Shut your ears, stranger, or turn from Ghost Glen now,
For the paths are grown over, untrodden by men now;
Shut your ears, stranger," saith the grey mother, crooning
Her sorcery runic, when sets the half-moon in.

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The Granny Grey, a Love Tale

© Mary Darby Robinson

The DAME was silent; for the Lover
Would, when she spoke,
She fear'd, discover
Her envious joke:
And she was too much charm'd to be
In haste,--to end the Comedy!

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Alnwick Castle

© Fitz-Greene Halleck

From royal Berwick's beach of sand,
From Wooller, Morpeth, Hexham, and
Newcastle-upon-Tyne.

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Lionel And Lucille

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

I.
IN the beautiful Castleton Island a mansion of lordly style,
Embowered in gardens and lawns, looks over the glimmering bay.
In the light of a morning in summer, with stately beauty and pride,

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Side Show

© Arthur Rimbaud

Very sturdy rogues.
Several have exploited your worlds.
With no needs, and in no hurry
to make use of their brilliant faculties
and their knowledge of your conveniences.

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Crossing the Grand Sierras

© Henry Clay Work

All aboard! all aboard!

The hissing breath of the iron steed

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I Rose Up As My Custom Is

© Thomas Hardy

I rose up as my custom is
  On the eve of All-Souls' day,
And left my grave for an hour or so
To call on those I used to know
  Before I passed away.

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A Child Of God Longing To See Him Beloved

© William Cowper

There's not an echo round me,

But I am glad should learn,

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To The Romantic Traditionists

© Allen Tate

I have looked at them long,
My eyes blur; sourceless light
Keeps them forever young
Before our ageing sight.

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Coole Park And Ballylee, 1931

© William Butler Yeats

Under my window-ledge the waters race,

Otters below and moor-hens on the top,

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Flossie Cabanis

© Edgar Lee Masters

From Bindle's opera house in the village
To Broadway is a great step.
But I tried to take it, my ambition fired
When sixteen years of age,

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Epitaph For A Romantic Woman

© Louise Bogan

She has attained the permanence
She dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning.
Untended stalks blow over her
Even and swift, like young men running.

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Water Babes

© Ivan Donn Carswell

We were water babes, born in the arms of a sparkling brook
that patiently took us into its heart. At the very start we
were never far from its shingly banks, playing amid ranks
of serried wildflowers. When one of us all but drowned

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Mountains of Delight

© Ivan Donn Carswell

The problem was the manner of choice
(or whether there was a choice for that matter)
as you had taken those options to yourself,
choosing as you had to do, and as it was right for you,
there is no shame in that – and no reproving,
but my alternatives were emptied by your doing.