War poems
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132. Reply to a Trimming Epistle, received from a Tailor
© Robert Burns
But, sir, this pleasd them warst of a,
An therefore, Tam, when that I saw,
I said Gude night, an cam awa,
An left the Session;
I saw they were resolvèd a
On my oppression.
Ode IV: To The Honourable Charles Townshend In The Country
© Mark Akenside
I. 1.
How oft shall i survey
The Fountain
© William Cullen Bryant
Fountain, that springest on this grassy slope,
Thy quick cool murmur mingles pleasantly,
The Beauteous Terrorist
© Sir Henry Parkes
Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.
257. Ode on the Departed Regency Bill
© Robert Burns
Then know this truth, ye Sons of Men!
(Thus ends thy moral tale,)
Your darkest terrors may be vain,
Your brightest hopes may fail.
369. SongMy Collier Laddie
© Robert Burns
WHARE live ye, my bonie lass?
And tell me what they ca ye;
My name, she says, is mistress Jean,
And I follow the Collier laddie.
My name, she says, &c.
56. Epistle to Davie, A Brother Poet
© Robert Burns
WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw,
An bar the doors wi driving snaw,
An hing us owre the ingle,
I set me down to pass the time,
200. SongThe Young Highland Rover
© Robert Burns
LOUD blaw the frosty breezes,
The snaws the mountains cover;
Like winter on me seizes,
Since my young Highland rover
The Pang More Sharp Than All. An Allegory
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
He too has flitted from his secret nest,
Hope's last and dearest child without a name!--
Has flitted from me, like the warmthless flame,
83. The Cotters Saturday Night
© Robert Burns
MY lovd, my honourd, much respected friend!
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friends esteem and praise:
10. The Ronalds of the Bennals
© Robert Burns
IN Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,
And proper young lasses and a, man;
But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals,
They carry the gree frae them a, man.
Velocity Of Money
© Allen Ginsberg
Im delighted by the velocity of money as it whistles through the windows
of Lower East Side
In September
© Edward Dowden
SPRING scarce had greener fields to show than these
Of mid September; through the still warm noon
156. Verses inscribed under a Noble Earls Picture
© Robert Burns
WHOSE 1 is that noble, dauntless brow?
And whose that eye of fire?
And whose that generous princely mien,
Een rooted foes admire?
307. Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson
© Robert Burns
Go to your sculpturd tombs, ye Great,
In a the tinsel trash o state!
But by thy honest turf Ill wait,
Thou man of worth!
And weep the ae best fellows fate
Eer lay in earth.
The Broken Tower
© Hart Crane
The bell-rope that gathers God at dawn
Dispatches me as though I dropped down the knell
Of a spent day - to wander the cathedral lawn
From pit to crucifix, feet chill on steps from hell.
The Suliote Mother
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
She stood upon the loftiest peak,
Amidst the clear blue sky,
A bitter smile was on her cheek,
And a dark flash in her eye.
Sonnet XIV. From Petrarch
© Charlotte Turner Smith
LOOSE to the wind her golden tresses stream'd,
Forming bright waves with amorous Zephyr's sighs;
And though averted now, her charming eyes
Then with warm love, and melting pity beam'd,
31. SongMy Nanie, O!
© Robert Burns
BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows,
Mang moors an mosses many, O,
The wintry sun the day has closd,
And Ill awa to Nanie, O.
