Trust poems

 / page 116 of 157 /
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The Fan : A Poem. Book I.

© John Gay

The goddess pleas'd, the curious work receive,
Remounts her chariot, and the grotto leaves;
With the light fan she moves the yielding air,
And gales, till then unknown, play round the fair.

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The Haglets

© Herman Melville

There, peaked and gray, three haglets fly,
And follow, follow fast in wake
Where slides the cabin-lustre shy,
And sharks from man a glamour take,
Seething along the line of light
In lane that endless rules the war-ship's flight.

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On A Dissembler

© William Strode

Could any shewe where Plynyes people dwell
Whose head stands in their breast; who cannot tell
A smoothing lye because their open hart
And lippes are joyn'd so neare, I would depart

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Moonlight

© John Kenyon

Not alway from the lessons of the schools,

  Taught evermore by those who trust them not,

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The Four Ages of Man

© Anne Bradstreet

1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.

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Spirit

© Anne Bradstreet

Be still, thou unregenerate part,
Disturb no more my settled heart,
For I have vow'd (and so will do)
Thee as a foe still to pursue,

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The Flesh and the Spirit

© Anne Bradstreet

In secret place where once I stood
Close by the Banks of Lacrim flood,
I heard two sisters reason on
Things that are past and things to come.

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A Dialogue between Old England and New

© Anne Bradstreet

New England. 1 Alas, dear Mother, fairest Queen and best,
2 With honour, wealth, and peace happy and blest,
3 What ails thee hang thy head, and cross thine arms,
4 And sit i' the dust to sigh these sad alarms?

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Verses upon the Burning of our House, July 18th

© Anne Bradstreet

In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I waken'd was with thund'ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.

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Here Follows Some Verses upon the Burning of Our House

© Anne Bradstreet

In silent night when rest I took
For sorrow near I did not look
I waked was with thund'ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.

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Self-Portrait At 28

© David Berman

If squeezed for more information
I can remember old clock radios
with flipping metal numbers
and an entree called Surf and Turf.

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Samuel Sewall

© Anthony Evan Hecht

And all the town admired for two full years
His excellent address, his gifts of fruit,
Her gracious ways and delicate white ears,
And held the course of nature abolute.

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Elegy IV. Anno Aet. 18. To My Tutor, Thomas Young, Chaplain Of The English Merchants Resident At Ham

© William Cowper

Hence, my epistle--skim the Deep--fly o'er

Yon smooth expanse to the Teutonic shore!

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A Woman's Question

© Adelaide Anne Procter

Before I trust my fate to thee,  

 Or place my hand in thine,  

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The Maid Of The Mill's Repentance.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Expel thee!
What's this thou singest so falsely, forsooth,
Of love and a maiden's silent truth?

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Be Not Dismayed

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Be not dismayed, be not dismayed when death

Sets its white seal upon some worshipped face.

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Faithful Eckart.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The band of the Sorceress sisters.
They hitherward speed, and on finding us here,
They'll drink, though with toil we have fetch'd it, the beer,

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The Mountain Village.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"THE mountain village was destroy'd;
But see how soon is fill'd the void!
Shingles and boards, as by magic arise,
The babe in his cradle and swaddling-clothes lies;
How blest to trust to God's protection!"

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The Treasure-digger

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

ALL my weary days I pass'dSick at heart and poor in purse.Poverty's the greatest curse,Riches are the highest good!
And to end my woes at last,Treasure-seeking forth I sped."Thou shalt have my soul instead!"Thus I wrote, and with my blood.Ring round ring I forthwith drew,Wondrous flames collected there,Herbs and bones in order fair,Till the charm had work'd aright.
Then, to learned precepts true,Dug to find some treasure old,In the place my art foretoldBlack and stormy was the night.Coming o'er the distant plain,With the glimmer of a star,Soon I saw a light afar,As the hour of midnight knell'd.
Preparation was in vain.Sudden all was lighted upWith the lustre of a cupThat a beauteous boy upheld.Sweetly seem'd his eves to laughNeath his flow'ry chaplet's load;With the drink that brightly glow'd,He the circle enter'd in.

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Occasion'd By Reading The Memoirs Of Anne Of Austria

© Mary Barber

Ye heedless Fair, who pass the live--long Day,
In Dress and Scandal, Gallantry and Play;
Who thro' new Scenes of Pleasure hourly run,
Whilst Life's important Business is undone;
Look here, when guilty Conquests make you vain,
And see, how sad Remorse shuts up the Scene.