Sympathy poems
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James McCosh
© Robert Seymour Bridges
The laws of nature that he loved to trace
Have worked, at last, to veil from us his face;
The dear old elms and ivy-covered walls
Will miss his presence, and the stately halls
His trumpet voice. And in their joys
Sorrow will shadow those he called my boys!
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Pennsylvania Pilgrim
Never in tenderer quiet lapsed the day
From Pennsylvania's vales of spring away,
Where, forest-walled, the scattered hamlets lay
Sonnet XXII. To Simplicity
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
O! I do love thee, meek Simplicity!
For of thy lays the lulling simpleness
Goes to my heart, and soothes each small distress--
Distress tho' small, yet haply great to me!
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Third
© William Lisle Bowles
My heart has sighed in secret, when I thought
That the dark tide of time might one day close,
The Wrongs Of Africa, A Poem. Part The First
© William Roscoe
OFFSPRING of love divine, Humanity!
To who, his eldest born, th'Eternal gave
Guilt And Sorrow, Or, Incidents Upon Salisbury Plain
© William Wordsworth
I
A TRAVELLER on the skirt of Sarum's Plain
Pursued his vagrant way, with feet half bare;
Stooping his gait, but not as if to gain
Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts III.-V.
© John Logan
What venerable father stands aghast
In yonder porch? Beneath the weight of years,
And crush of sorrow to the earth he bends.
He wrings his hands; casts a wild look to heaven,
And rends his hoary locks. He comes this way.
Heavens, it is Albemarle!-
To Sensibility
© Helen Maria Williams
In SENSIBILITY'S lov'd praise
I tune my trembling reed,
And seek to deck her shrine with bays,
On which my heart must bleed!
Warning And Reply
© Emily Jane Brontë
In the earth-the earth-thou shalt be laid,
A grey stone standing over thee;
Black mould beneath thee spread,
And black mould to cover thee.
I Cannot Love Thee!
© Caroline Norton
When thy tongue (ah! woe is me!)
Whispers love-vows tenderly,
Mine is shaping, all unheard,
Fragments of some withering word,
Spiritual Love
© Alfred Austin
Could you but give me all that I desire,
I should be richer, and you no more poor,
Love Inthron'd. Ode
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Introth, I do my self perswade,
That the wilde boy is grown a man,
And all his childishnesse off laid,
Farewell To The Muse
© George Gordon Byron
Thou Power! who hast ruled me through Infancy's days,
Young offspring of Fancy, 'tis time we should part;
Then rise on the gale this the last of my lays,
The coldest effusion which springs from my heart.
Italy : 6. Jorasse
© Samuel Rogers
Jorasse was in his three-and-twentieth year;
Graceful and active as a stag just roused;
Gentle withal, and pleasant in his speech,
Yet seldom seen to smile. He had grown up
English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire
© George Gordon Byron
These are the themes that claim our plaudits now;
These are the bards to whom the muse must bow;
While Milton, Dryden, Pope, alike forgot,
Resign their hallow'd bays to Walter Scott.
Tribute To The Memory Of The Same Dog
© William Wordsworth
LIE here, without a record of thy worth,
Beneath a covering of the common earth!
It is not from unwillingness to praise,
Or want of love, that here no Stone we raise;
