Trust poems

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Love’s Wisdom

© Alfred Austin

Love, that in my mind seeks Reason's aid. Paraphrase.

I crave not love, for it would only bring

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Paradise Lost : Book I.

© John Milton


Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit

Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste

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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.

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Rokeby: Canto I.

© Sir Walter Scott

I.

The Moon is in her summer glow,

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Fragments from 'Genius Lost'

© Charles Harpur

Prelude
 I SEE the boy-bard neath life’s morning skies,
 While hope’s bright cohorts guess not of defeat,
 And ardour lightens from his earnest eyes,
And faith’s cherubic wings around his being beat.

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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,

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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:

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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!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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Don Juan: Canto The Seventh

© George Gordon Byron

O Love! O Glory! what are ye who fly

Around us ever, rarely to alight?

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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;

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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.

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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.

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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

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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!

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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.