Trust poems
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A Castaway
© Augusta Davies Webster
So long since:
and now it seems a jest to talk of me
as if I could be one with her, of me
who am…… me.
The Welcome
© Thomas Osborne Davis
Come in the evening, or come in the morning;
Come when you re lookd for, or come without warning:
Recreation
© Jane Taylor
At last the tea came up, and so,
With that, our tongues began to go.
Now, in that house, you're sure of knowing
The smallest scrap of news that's going ;
We find it there the wisest way
To take some care of what we say.
Ode For Washingtons Birthday
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
CELEBRATION OF THE MERCANTILE LIBRARY ASSOCIATION,
FEBRUARY 22, 1856
A Christmas Carol
© James Russell Lowell
'What means this glory round our feet,'
The Magi mused, 'more bright than morn?'
And voices chanted clear and sweet,
'To-day the Prince of Peace is born!'
We Must Not Fail
© Thomas Osborne Davis
We must not fail, we must not fail,
However fraud or force assail;
By honour, pride, and policy,
By Heaven itself!--we must be free.
Oedipus Tyrannus or Swellfoot The Tyrant
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Choose Reform or Civil War,
When through thy streets, instead of hare with dogs,
A Consort-Queen shall hunt a King with hogs,
Riding on the IONIAN MINOTAUR.'
Nature and Art For an Album
© John Henry Newman
"Man goeth forth" with reckless trust
Upon his wealth of mind,
As if in self a thing of dust
Creative skill might find;
He schemes and toils; stone, wood and ore
Subject or weapon of His power.
Windsor Forest
© Alexander Pope
Thy forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats,
At once the Monarch's and the Muse's seats,
Don Juan: Canto The First
© George Gordon Byron
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Upon the death of my ever desired friend Doctor Donne Dean of Pauls
© Henry King
To have liv'd eminent in a degreee
Beyond our lofty'st flights, that is like thee;
Or t'have had too much merit is not safe;
For such excesses find no Epitaph.
Geue Place Ye Louers, Here Before
© Henry Howard
Geue place ye louers, here before
That spent your bostes and bragges in vaine:
A Childhood
© Stephen Spender
In what purity of pleasure
You danced alone like a peasant
For the stamping joy's own sake!
The Hermit
© Thomas Parnell
Far in a wild, unknown to public view,
From youth to age a rev'rend hermit grew;
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well:
Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days,
Pray'r all his bus'ness, all his pleasure praise.
Blaney's Last Directions
© Benjamin Jonson
It is my earnest request that no person
on any pretence whatever
may be permitted to see my
corpse
but those who
unavoidably must.
A Day At Tivoli - Prologue
© John Kenyon
Yet, if All die, there are who die not All;
(So Flaccus hoped), and half escape the pall.
The Sacred Few! whom love of glory binds,
"That last infirmity of noble minds,
"To scorn delights, and live laborious days,"
