Trust poems
/ page 35 of 157 /Loves Wisdom
© Alfred Austin
Love, that in my mind seeks Reason's aid. Paraphrase.
I crave not love, for it would only bring
Paradise Lost : Book I.
© John Milton
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Everyday Characters IV - My Partner
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
"There is, perhaps, no subject of more universal interest in the whole range of natural knowledge, than that of the unceasing fluctuations which take place in the atmosphere in which we are immersed."
-- British Almanack.
Fragments from 'Genius Lost'
© Charles Harpur
Prelude
I SEE the boy-bard neath lifes morning skies,
While hopes bright cohorts guess not of defeat,
And ardour lightens from his earnest eyes,
And faiths cherubic wings around his being beat.
To Edward Lear: on His Travels in Greece
© Alfred Tennyson
Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls
Of water, sheets of summer glass,
The long divine Peneian pass,
The vast Akrokeraunian walls,
The Hunting Horn Of Chalemagne
© Caroline Norton
Heard midst the rushing of the torrent's fall,
From castled crag to roofless ruin'd hall,
Down the ravine's precipitous descent,
Thro' the wild forest's rustling boughs it went,
Upon the lake's blue bosom linger'd fond,
And faintly answer'd from the hills beyond:
The Sage Enamoured And The Honest Lady
© George Meredith
Our world believes it stabler if the soft
Are whipped to show the face repentance wears.
Then hear it, in a moan of atheist gloom,
Deplore the weedy growth of hypocrites;
Count Nature devilish, and accept for doom
The chasm between our passions and our wits!
The Eve of St. John
© Sir Walter Scott
The baron of Smaylho'me rose with day,
He spurr'd his courser on,
Without stop or stay, down the rocky way,
That leads to Brotherstone.
The God Who Waits
© Leslie Coulson
The old men in the olden days,
Who thought and worked in simple ways,
Believed in God and sought His praise.
From Italy
© Richard Monckton Milnes
It is a happy thought, I ween,
That, with my heart and fancy free,
Though seas and nations lie between,
I still am side by side with Thee.
Laurance - [Part 3]
© Jean Ingelow
But when that other heard, "It is the end,"
His heart was sick, and he, as by a power
Far stronger than himself, was driven to her.
Reason rebelled against it, but his will
Required it of him with a craving strong
As life, and passionate though hopeless pain.
The Faithful Friend
© Caroline Norton
O, FRIEND! whose heart the grave doth shroud from human joy or woe,
Know'st thou who wanders by thy tomb, with footsteps sad and slow?
Know'st thou whose brow is dark with grief? whose eyes are dim with tears?
Whose restless soul is sinking with its agony of fears?
Whose hope hath fail'd, whose star hath sunk, whose firmest trust deceived,
Since, leaning on thy faithful breast, he loved and believed?
Don Juan: Canto The Seventh
© George Gordon Byron
O Love! O Glory! what are ye who fly
Around us ever, rarely to alight?
Stonewall Jackson
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE fashions and the forms of men decay,
The seasons perish, the calm sunsets die,
Ne'er with the same bright pomp of cloud or ray
To flush the golden pathways of the sky;
Geometry
© John Crowe Ransom
Hickory shoots unnumbered rise,
Sallow and wasting themselves in sighs,
Children begot at a criminal rate
In the sight of a God that is profligate.
Hudibras: Part 2 - Canto I
© Samuel Butler
Quoth she, I grant it is in vain.
For one that's basted to feel pain,
Because the pangs his bones endure
Contribute nothing to the cure:
Yet honor hurt, is wont to rage
With pain no med'cine can asswage.
Epitaphs Translated From Chiabrera
© William Wordsworth
I
WEEP not, beloved Friends! nor let the air
For me with sighs be troubled. Not from life
Have I been taken; this is genuine life
Elmwood
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
The after-glow has faded from the elms,
And in the denser darkness of the boughs
From time to time the firefly's tiny lamp
Sparkles. How often in still summer dusks
He paused to note that transient phantom spark
Flash on the air--a light that outlasts him!
Woodnotes
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
II
As sunbeams stream through liberal space
And nothing jostle or displace,
So waved the pine-tree through my thought
And fanned the dreams it never brought.