All Poems

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Come, all you jolly natives, and I'll relate to you
Some of my observations - adventures, too, a few.
I've travelled about the country for miles full many a score,
And oft-times would have hungered, but for the cheek I bore.

Sonnet 97: Dian, That Fain Would Cheer

© Sir Philip Sidney

Dian, that fain would cheer her friend the Night,
Shows her oft at the full her fairest race,
Bringing with her those starry nymphs, whose chase
From heav'nly standing hits each mortal wight.

Olney Hymn 6: Wisdom

© William Cowper

"Ere God had built the mountains,

Or raised the fruitful hills;

Epilogue to the 'Good Natur'd Man'

© Oliver Goldsmith

As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure

To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure;

Fragment: Sufficient Unto The Day

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

Is not to-day enough? Why do I peer
Into the darkness of the day to come?
Is not to-morrow even as yesterday?
And will the day that follows change thy doom?

Mon Visage Est Fletri

© André Marie de Chénier

Mon visage est flétri des regards du soleil.

Mon pied blanc sous la ronce est devenu vermeil.

"Now all the lovely days are past"

© Lesbia Harford

Now all the lovely days are past,
The hours of sun and leagues of sea,
And starry nights that lay between
Yourself and me.

Invocation

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veil'd from waking thought; conjured
Eternity, as men constrain a ghost
To appear and answer. ~ WORDSWORTH.

Florence

© Alfred Austin

City acclaimed from far-off days
Fair, and baptized in field of flowers,
Once more I scan, with eager gaze,
Your soaring domes, your storied towers.

In February

© George MacDonald

Now in the dark of February rains,
Poor lovers of the sunshine, spring is born,
The earthy fields are full of hidden corn,
And March's violets bud along the lanes;

Robert Buchanan

© William Cosmo Monkhouse

T WAS the body of Judas Iscariot

Lay in the Field of Blood;

The Mothers Last Watch

Written on the occasion of the death of the infant daughter of Her Grace the Duchess of Sutherland.
I.
HARK, through the proudly decorated halls,
How strangely sounds the voice of bitter woe,

A Bushranger

Jackey Jackey gallops on a horse like a swallow
Where the carbines bark and the blackboys hollo.
When the traps give chase (may the devil take his power!)
He can ride ten mile in a quarter of an hour