Not vacant in the day of which I write!
Then rose thy pillared columns fair and white;
Then floated out the odorous pleasant scent
Of cultured shrubs and flowers together blent,
And o'er the trim-kept gravel's tawny hue
Warm fell the shadows and the brightness too.

From Mount Gerizzim

© John Bunyan

Besides what I said of the Four Last Things,

And of the weal and woe that from them springs;

Urania's Lover.

© Robert Crawford

O poet, thou art called to tread her ways,
Hers, mistress of the soul, Urania fair.
(Ah God! how fair, how all adorable,
But those who have wooed her can tell!)

Cassandra

© George Meredith

Captive on a foreign shore,
Far from Ilion's hoary wave,
Agamemnon's bridal slave
Speaks Futurity no more:
Death is busy with her grave.

The Borough. Letter XVI: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Benlow

© George Crabbe

SEE! yonder badgeman with that glowing face,

A meteor shining in this sober place!

The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished

© John Keats

I.

In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool,

Le Forgeron (The Blacksmith)

© Arthur Rimbaud

Le bras sur un marteau gigantesque, effrayant

D'ivresse et de grandeur, le front large, riant

Of The Death Of Sir Thomas Wyatt The Elder

© Henry Howard

Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.

The Future Verdict

How will our unborn children scoff at us
In the good years to come,
The happier years to come,
Because, like driven sheep, we yielded thus,
Before the shearers dumb.

I Saw A New World

I SAW a new world in my dream,

Where all the folks alike did seem:

A Flower Of A Day

OLD friend, that with a pale and pensile grace
Climbest the lush hedgerows, art thou back again,
Marking the slow round of the wond'rous years?
Didst beckon me a moment, silent flower?

Sonnet

And offers incense in her heart, as on
An altar sacred unto God. The dawn
Of an imperishable love passed through
The lattice of my senses, and I, too,
Did offer incense in that solemn place
A woman's heart made pure and sanctified by grace.

Gladys And Her Island

© Jean Ingelow

“Ah, well, but I am here; but I have seen
The gay gorse bushes in their flowering time;
I know the scent of bean-fields; I have heard
The satisfying murmur of the main.”