Travel poems

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Incompatibility

© Charles Baudelaire

Higher there, higher, far from the ways,
from the farms and the valleys, beyond the trees,
beyond the hills and the grasses’ haze,
far from the herd-trampled tapestries,

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Memory

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

Yet when the year departs
He takes his gifts with him--
"Oh, Robber!" we cry,
Aghast and weeping,
"Nay," he replies, "I did but lend.
Still, for your weeping, I will leave you something.

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The time has come for us to become madmen in your chain

© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

The time has come for us to become madmen in your chain, to
burst our bonds and become estranged from all;
To yield up our souls, no more to bear the disgrace of such a
soul, to set fire to our house, and run like fire to the tavern.

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Italian Girl's Hymn To The Virgin

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

In the deep hour of dreams,
Through the dark woods, and past the moaning sea,
And by the star-light gleams,
Mother of sorrows! lo, I come to thee!

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Read Your Fate

© Charles Simic

A world's disappearing.
Little street,
You were too narrow,
Too much in the shade already.

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An American in Europe

© Henry Van Dyke

'Tis fine to see the Old World, and travel up and down
Among the famous palaces and cities of renown,
To admire the crumbly castles and the statues of the kings, -
But now I think I've had enough of antiquated things.

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The Bridge

© Russell Edson

In his travels he comes to a bridge made entirely of bones.
Before crossing he writes a letter to his mother: Dear mother,
guess what? the ape accidentally bit off one of his hands while
eating a banana. Just now I am at the foot of a bone bridge. I

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The Columbiad: Book X

© Joel Barlow

From that mark'd stage of man we now behold,
More rapid strides his coming paths unfold;
His continents are traced, his islands found,
His well-taught sails on all his billows bound,
His varying wants their new discoveries ply,
And seek in earth's whole range their sure supply.

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Ten Fingered Mice

© Edgar Albert Guest

When a cake is nicely frosted and it's put away for tea,

And it looks as trim and proper as a chocolate cake should be,

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The Ruins Of Time

© Robert Lowell

(Quevedo, Mire los muros de la partia mia and
Buscas en Roma a Roma, (!)O peregrino!)II saw the musty shingles of my house,
raw wood and fixed once, now a wash of moss
eroded by the ruin of age

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Shakuntala Act IV

© Kalidasa

ACT IV

SCENE –A LAWN before the Cottage.

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Fifth Sunday After Epiphany

© John Keble

"Wake, arm Divine! awake,
 Eye of the only Wise!
  Now for Thy glory's sake,
 Saviour and God, arise,
And may Thine ear, that sealed seems,
In pity mark our mournful themes!"

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Italy : 40. Banditti

© Samuel Rogers

'Tis a wild life, fearful and full of change,
The mountain-robber's.  On the watch he lies,
Levelling his carbine at the passenger;
And, when his work is done, he dares not sleep.

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The Duellist - Book III

© Charles Churchill

Ah me! what mighty perils wait

The man who meddles with a state,

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The Dance To Death. Act I

© Emma Lazarus


This play is dedicated, in profound veneration and respect, to the
memory of George Eliot, the illustrious writer, who did most among
the artists of our day towards elevating and ennobling the spirit
of Jewish nationality.

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From 'Religious Musings'

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

ITHERE is one Mind, one omnipresent Mind,
Omnific. His most holy name is Love.
Truth of subliming import! with the which
Who feeds and saturates his constant soul,

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Italy : 43. The Bag Of Gold

© Samuel Rogers

I dine very often with the good old Cardinal * * and, I
should add, with his cats; for they always sit at his table,
and are much the gravest of the company.  His beaming
countenance makes us forget his age; nor did I ever see

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To Rich Givers

© Walt Whitman

WHAT you give me, I cheerfully accept,

A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money-these, as I

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Fears In Solitude

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

[Image][Image][Image][Image][Image] May my fears,
My filial fears, be vain ! and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy
Pass like the gust, that roared and died away
In the distant tree : which heard, and only heard
In this low dell, bowed not the delicate grass.

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Banner Of Men Who Were Free

© Edgar Lee Masters

Flag of the great republic, banner of men who were free!
Carried aloft for freedom in many a bloody gorge;
Torn by the shot of tyrants in battle by land and sea,
The rallying hope of our fathers by Valley Forge.