Trust poems
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A Poem. Dedication of the Pittsfield Cemetery
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
The sun shall set, and heavens resplendent spheres
Gild the smooth turf unhallowed yet by tears,
But ah! how soon the evening stars will shed
Their sleepless light around the slumbering dead!
Chomei At Toyama
© Basil Bunting
Swirl sleeping in the waterfall!
On motionless pools scum appearing
disappearing!
The Last Banquet Of Antony And Cleopatra
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thy foes had girt thee with their dead array,
O stately Alexandra! - yet the sound
Graves of the Confederate Dead
© Henry Timrod
I
Sleep sweetly in your humble graves,
Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;
Though yet no marble column craves
The pilgrim here to pause.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.
© George Gordon Byron
I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A Bunch Of Triolets
© Robert Fuller Murray
You like the trifling triolet:
Well, here are three or four.
Unless your likings I forget,
You like the trifling triolet.
The Palace of Art
© Alfred Tennyson
And "while the world runs round and round," I said,
"Reign thou apart, a quiet king,
Still as, while Saturn whirls, his steadfast shade
Sleeps on his luminous ring."
King Canute
© William Makepeace Thackeray
KING CANUTE was weary hearted; he had reigned for years a score,
Battling, struggling, pushing, fighting, killing much and robbing more;
And he thought upon his actions, walking by the wild sea-shore.
Fitz Adam's Story
© James Russell Lowell
The next whose fortune 'twas a tale to tell
Was one whom men, before they thought, loved well,
"Mary At The Cross"
© Harriet Beecher Stowe
O wondrous mother! since the dawn of time
Was ever love, was ever grief, like thine?
O highly favored in thy joy's deep flow,
And favored, even in this, thy bitterest woe!
Purgatorio (English)
© Dante Alighieri
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail
The little vessel of my genius now,
That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel;
The Open Secret
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
The Heavens repeat no other Song,
And, plainly or in parable,
A November Note
© Alfred Austin
Why, throstle, do you sing
In this November haze?
Singing for what? for whom?
Deem you that it is Spring,
Or that your lonely lays
Will stave off Winter's gloom?
Dead Loves
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHENE'ER I think of old loves wall and dead,
Of passion's wine outpoured in senseless dust,
Of doomed affection's and long-buried trust,
Through all my soul an arctic gloom is shed;
The Bride Of The Nile - Act I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Act I Governor's Palace at Alexandria.
Act II Garden House of the Makawkas at On.
Act III On the Banks of the Nile. Time, th Century, A.D.
John Bede Polding
© Henry Kendall
With reverent eyes and bowed, uncovered head,
A son of sorrow kneels by fanes you knew;
But cannot say the words that should be said
To crowned and winged divinities like you.
"Our Hope."
© James Brunton Stephens
A WIND-BORNE shred of that mysterious scroll
Wherein the secrets of the deep are writ:
Georgic 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven;
Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee,
An Out-Worn Sappho
© James Whitcomb Riley
How tired I am! I sink down all alone
Here by the wayside of the Present. Lo,
