Trust poems

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A Father's Tribute

© Edgar Albert Guest

I don't know what they'll put him at, or what

  his post may be;

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The Ring And The Book - Chapter XII - The Book And The Ring

© Robert Browning

HERE were the end, had anything an end:

Thus, lit and launched, up and up roared and soared

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Norman and Saxon

© Rudyard Kipling

My son," said the Norman Baron, "I am dying, and you will be heir
To all the broad acres in England that William gave me for my share
When we conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little handful it is.
But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand this:—

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Black Mousquetaire: A Legend Of France

© Richard Harris Barham

No triumphs flush that haughty brow,-
No proud exulting look is there,-
His eagle glance is humbled now,
As, earthward bent, in anxious care
It seeks the form whose stalwart pride
But yester-morn was by his side!

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Book Fourth [Summer Vacation]

© William Wordsworth

BRIGHT was the summer's noon when quickening steps

Followed each other till a dreary moor

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The Shepherds Calendar - July

© John Clare

Daughter of pastoral smells and sights
And sultry days and dewy nights
July resumes her yearly place
Wi her milking maiden face

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I See Thee Not

© George MacDonald

Yes, Master, when thou comest thou shalt find
A little faith on earth, if I am here!
Thou know'st how oft I turn to thee my mind.
How sad I wait until thy face appear!

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Farewell And Defiance To Love

© John Clare

Love and thy vain employs, away

From this too oft deluded breast!

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To Lucasta From Prison An Epode

© Richard Lovelace

  I.
Long in thy shackels, liberty
I ask not from these walls, but thee;
Left for awhile anothers bride,
To fancy all the world beside.

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Truth

© Geoffrey Chaucer

  Fle fro the pres, and dwelle with sothefastness{.e},
  Suffise thin owen thing, thei it be smal;
  For hord hath hate, and clymbyng tykelness{.e},
  Prees hath envye, and wel{.e} blent overal.

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Lettice

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

I said to Lettice, our sister Lettice,
While drooped and glistened her eyelash brown,
"Your man's a poor man, a cold and dour man,
There's many a better about our town."

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The Fovrth Booke Of Qvodlibets

© Robert Hayman


Sermons and Epigrams haue a like end,
To improue, to reproue, and to amend:
Some passe without this vse, 'cause they are witty;
And so doe many Sermons, more's the pitty.

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The Visions Of Petrarch

© Edmund Spenser

Being one day at my window all alone,

So manie strange things happened me to see,

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Death of Ben Hall

© Anonymous

Come all Australia's sons to me -
 A hero has been slain
And cowardly butchered in his sleep
 Upon the Lachlan Plain.

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These Little Ones

© Edith Nesbit

"What of the garden I gave?"

God said to me;

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Down by the Sydney Side

© Anonymous

Over near a chock-and-log hut,
Down by the river-side,
A bronzed young bushman sat,
Telling his blushing bride
The time had come when he must rove
Down by the Sydney side.

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Foreshadowings

© Henry Kendall

FIFTEEN miles and then the harbour! Here we cannot choose but stand,

Faces thrust towards the day-break, listening for our native land!

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King Arthur's Death

© Thomas Percy

On Trinitye Mondaye in the morne,
This sore battayle was doom'd to bee,
Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye!
Alacke, it was the more pittìe.

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Native Land

© Mikhail Lermontov

I love my native land with such perverse affection!
My better judgement has no standing here.
Not glory, won in bloody action,
nor yet that calm demeanour, trusting and austere,
nor yet age-hallowed rites or handed-down traditions;
not one can stir my soul to gratifying visions.

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My Wife

© Robert Louis Stevenson

  Trusty, dusky, vivid, true,
  With eyes of gold and bramble-dew,
  Steel-true and blade-straight,
  The great artificer
  Made my mate.