Travel poems

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ElegyXI: The Bracelet

© John Donne

NOT that in colour it was like thy hair,

For armlets of that thou mayst let me wear ;

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The Three Kings. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Three Kings came riding from far away,
  Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar;
Three Wise Men out of the East were they,
And they travelled by night and they slept by day,
  For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.

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The White Vigil

© Madison Julius Cawein

Last night I dreamed I saw you lying dead,
  And by your sheeted form stood all alone:
  Frail as a flow'r you lay upon your bed,
  And on your still face, through the casement, shone
  The moon, as lingering to kiss you there
  Fall'n asleep, white violets in your hair.

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Gotham - Book I

© Charles Churchill

Far off (no matter whether east or west,

A real country, or one made in jest,

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The Ghost of Goshen

© Anonymous

Through Goshen Hollow, where hemlocks grow,
Where rushing rills, with flash and flow,
Are over the rough rocks falling;
Where fox, where bear, and catamount hide,

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Green River

© William Cullen Bryant

  When breezes are soft and skies are fair,
I steal an hour from study and care,
And hie me away to the woodland scene,
Where wanders the stream with waters of green,

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Lycus the Centaur

© Thomas Hood

FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS

(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).

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Lines Addressed To Lieut. R.W.H. Hardy, R.N.

© Charles Lamb

ON THE PERUSAL OF HIS VOLUME OF TRAVELS IN THE INTERIOR OF MEXICO.

'Tis pleasant, lolling in our elbow-chair,

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The Old Road

© Jones Very

THE ROAD is left that once was trod
By man and heavy-laden beast;
And new ways opened, iron-shod,
That bind the land from west to east.

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Winter Evening

© Alexander Pushkin

The storm wind covers the sky
Whirling the fleecy snow drifts,
Now it howls like a wolf,
Now it is crying, like a lost child,

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Beppo, A Venetian Story

© George Gordon Byron

I.

'Tis known, at least it should be, that throughout

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Concepcion De Arguello

© Francis Bret Harte

Looking seaward, o'er the sand-hills stands the fortress, old and
  quaint,
By the San Francisco friars lifted to their patron saint,--

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The Short Road To Heaven

© Katharine Tynan

There's a short road to Heaven, but you must take it young,
And if you're for long living the road is all as long;
A long road, a hard road, with many a turn and twist.
The longer you'll be travelling, the easier it's missed.

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The Voyageur

© William Henry Drummond

Dere's somet'ing stirrin' ma blood tonight,

  On de night of de young new year,

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The Ports of the Open Sea

© Henry Lawson

Down here where the ships loom large in

  The gloom when the sea-storms veer,

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Ballad Of The Drover

© Henry Lawson

Across the stony ridges,

Across the rolling plain,

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Scholar And The Carpenter

© Jean Ingelow

While ripening corn grew thick and deep,

And here and there men stood to reap,

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Matthew

© William Wordsworth

IF Nature, for a favourite child,
In thee hath tempered so her clay,
That every hour thy heart runs wild,
Yet never once doth go astray,

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The Voice of the Swamp Oak

© Charles Harpur

Even when the waveless air
 May only stir the lightest leaf,
A lowly voice keeps moaning there
 Wordless oracles of grief.

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Poetry

© Boris Pasternak

Yes, I shall swear by you, my verse,
I shall wheeze out, before I swoon:
You're not a tenor's shape and voice,
You're summer travelling third class,
You are a suburb, not a tune.