Wish poems
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The Emigrants: Book II
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Scene, on an Eminence on one of those Downs, which afford to the South a view of the Sea; to the North of the Weald of Sussex. Time, an Afternoon in April, 1793.
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 6. One writes, that Other Friends Rem
© Alfred Tennyson
O mother, praying God will save
Thy sailor,--while thy head is bow'd,
His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud
Drops in his vast and wandering grave.
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 131. O living will that shalt endure
© Alfred Tennyson
O true and tried, so well and long,
Demand not thou a marriage lay;
In that it is thy marriage day
Is music more than any song.
Alfred Lord Tennyson - The Coming Of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
Leodogran, the King of Cameliard,
Had one fair daughter, and none other child;
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,
Guinevere, and in her his one delight.
A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty
© Edmund Spenser
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
Astrophel and Stella LXXXIV: HIGHWAY
© Sir Philip Sidney
Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be,
And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet,
Astrophel and Stella
© Sir Philip Sidney
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Sonnet 29
© William Shakespeare
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
Modern Love I: By This He Knew She Wept
© George Meredith
By this he knew she wept with waking eyes:
That, at his hand's light quiver by her head,
Satires of Circumstance in Fifteen Glimpses VIII: In the St
© Thomas Hardy
He enters, and mute on the edge of a chair
Sits a thin-faced lady, a stranger there,
to be a poet
© Florbela Espanca
To be a poet is to be louder , bigger
Than men! Biting as who kisses!
It is like being a beggar and to give whoever be
King of the Kingdom of Behind and Beyond Pain!
361. Song-Behold the Hour, the Boat, arrive
© Robert Burns
BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arrive!
My dearest Nancy, O fareweel!
Severed frae thee, can I survive,
Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae weel?
322. Song-The Bonie Wee Thing
© Robert Burns
Chorus.—Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing,
Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
I wad wear thee in my bosom,
Lest my jewel it should tine.
303. Song-The Gowden Locks of Anna
© Robert Burns
YESTREEN I had a pint o’ wine,
A place where body saw na;
Yestreen lay on this breast o’ mine
The gowden locks of Anna.
The Frog that wishes to be as Big as the Ox
© Wright Elizur
The tenant of a bog, An envious little frog, Not bigger than an egg, A stately bullock spies, And, smitten with his size, Attempts to be as big
131. Song-Willie Chalmers
© Robert Burns
WI’ braw new branks in mickle pride,
And eke a braw new brechan,
The Prelude: Book 2: School-time (Continued)
© William Wordsworth
Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving muchUnvisited, endeavour'd to retraceMy life through its first years, and measured backThe way I travell'd when I first beganTo love the woods and fields; the passion yetWas in its birth, sustain'd, as might befal,By nourishment that came unsought, for still,From week to week, from month to month, we liv'dA round of tumult: duly were our gamesProlong'd in summer till the day-light fail'd;No chair remain'd before the doors, the benchAnd threshold steps were empty; fast asleepThe Labourer, and the old Man who had sate,A later lingerer, yet the revelryContinued, and the loud uproar: at last,When all the ground was dark, and the huge cloudsWere edged with twinkling stars, to bed we went,With weary joints, and with a beating mind
The Prelude: Book 1: Childhood and School-time
© William Wordsworth
--Was it for thisThat one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'dTo blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,And from his alder shades and rocky falls,And from his fords and shallows, sent a voiceThat flow'd along my dreams? For this, didst Thou,O Derwent! travelling over the green PlainsNear my 'sweet Birthplace', didst thou, beauteous StreamMake ceaseless music through the night and dayWhich with its steady cadence, temperingOur human waywardness, compos'd my thoughtsTo more than infant softness, giving me,Among the fretful dwellings of mankind,A knowledge, a dim earnest, of the calmThat Nature breathes among the hills and groves
On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott from Abbotsford, for Naples
© William Wordsworth
A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,Nor of the setting sun's pathetic lightEngendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height:Spirits of Power, assembled there, complainFor kindred Power departing from their sight;While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain,Saddens his voice again, and yet again
