Sad poems
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The Charge of the Heavy Brigade at Balaclava
© Alfred Tennyson
The charge of the gallant three hundred, the Heavy Brigade!
Down the hill, down the hill, thousands of Russians,
Thousands of horsemen, drew to the valleyand stayd;
For Scarlett and Scarletts three hundred were riding by
The Feud: A Border Ballad
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
They sat by their wine in the tavern that night,
But not in good fellowship true:
The Rhenish was strong and the Burgundy bright,
And hotter the argument grew.
On An Unfortunate And Beautiful Woman
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh, Mary, when distress and anguish came,
And slow disease preyed on thy wasted frame;
The Maids Of Elfin-Mere
© William Allingham
When the spinning-room was here
Came Three Damsels, clothed in white,
The Long Road West
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Once I heard a Hobo, singing by the tie-trail,
Squatting by the red rail rusty with the dew:
The Overlander
© William Henry Ogilvie
I knew them on the road : red, roan, and white,
Cock-horned and spear-horned, spotted, streaked and starred;
I knew their shapes moon-misted in the night
As I rode round them keeping lonely guard.
I knew them all, the laggards and the leaders,
The wild, the wandering, and the listless feeders.
Sordello: Book the Sixth
© Robert Browning
The thought of Eglamor's least like a thought,
And yet a false one, was, "Man shrinks to nought
The Dancers (For Edwin Arlington Robinson)
© Margaret Widdemer
Ours is a still town, a sad town, a sober town,
Still lie the dun roads all empty in the sun,
Sad comes the day up and sad falls the night down,
And sadly go we sleepwise when the day's watch is done!
Loraine
© George Essex Evans
In her dark-ringed eyes shone the sad unrest
That spoke in the heave of her troubled breast,
And her face was white as the chiselled stone,
And her lips pressed madly against my own,
And her heart beat wildly against my heart,
And we strove to go, but we could not part.
Elegy XIII. To a Friend, On Some Slight Occasion Estranged From Him
© William Shenstone
Health to my friend, and many a cheerful day!
Around his seat may peaceful shades abide!
Smooth flow the minutes, fraught with smiles, away,
And, till they crown our union, gently glide!
On A Beautiful Spring,
© William Lisle Bowles
FORMING A COLD BATH, AT COOMBE, NEAR DONHEAD, BELONGING TO MY BROTHER,
CHAS. BOWLES, ESQ.
To The Lord Chancellor
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Thy country's curse is on thee, darkest crest
Of that foul, knotted, many-headed worm
Which rends our Mothers bosomPriestly Pest!
Masked Resurrection of a buried Form!
On Happiness
© James Thomson
Warm'd by the summer sun's meridian ray,
As underneath a spreading oak I lay
Contemplating the mighty load of woe,
In search of bliss that mortals undergo,
Elegiac Stanzas
© William Lisle Bowles
When I lie musing on my bed alone,
And listen to the wintry waterfall;
And many moments that are past and gone,
Moments of sunshine and of joy, recall;
The Spirits of Our Fathers
© Henry Lawson
THE SPIRITS of our fathers rise not from every wave,
They left the sea behind them long ago;
It was many years of slogging, where strong men must be brave,
For the sake of unborn children, and, maybe, a soul to save,
And the end a tidy homestead, and four panels round a grave,
Andthe bones of poor old Someone down below.
The Widow To Her Sons Betrothed
© Caroline Norton
I.
AH, cease to plead with that sweet cheerful voice,
Nor bid me struggle with a weight of woe,
Lest from the very tone that says "rejoice"
Orpheus In Thrace
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
Dear is the newly won,
But O far dearer the for ever lost!
He that at utmost cost
