All Poems
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Impression, On Returning To England
© Richard Monckton Milnes
In just accordance with attentive sight,
Through airy space and round our planet ball,
The inorganic world is voiced with Light,
And Colors are the words it speaks withal.
In Virgilium. Pentadii.
© Richard Lovelace
A swain, hind, knight: I fed, till'd, did command:
Goats, fields, my foes: with leaves, a spade, my hand.
Introduction: Pippa Passes
© Robert Browning
Now wait!-even I already seem to share
In God's love: what does New-year's hymn declare?
What other meaning do these verses bear?
The Princess (part 1)
© Alfred Tennyson
A prince I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face,
Of temper amorous, as the first of May,
With lengths of yellow ringlet, like a girl,
For on my cradle shone the Northern star.
England's Fields
© Lloyd Roberts
England's cliffs are white like milk,
But England's fields are green;
The grey fogs creep across the moors,
But warm suns stand between.
And not so far from London town, beyond the brimming street,
A thousand little summer winds are singing in the wheat.
The Old Player
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE curtain rose; in thunders long and loud
The galleries rung; the veteran actor bowed.
The Snows Of Spring
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O wailing gust, what hast thou brought with thee,
What sting of desolation? But an hour,
And brave was every shy new--opened flower
Smiling in sun beneath a budding tree.
Toby
© John Le Gay Brereton
Hey, Toby, Toby, Toby!Dead?
The silence is a flood
That closes, choking, overhead,
And chills the living blood.
Two Poems: (Numbers i and x in 'Strange Meetings.')
© Harold Monro
I
If suddenly a clod of earth should rise,
And walk about, and breathe, and speak, and love,
How one would tremble, and in what surprise
Gasp: 'Can you move?'
British Freedom
© William Wordsworth
It is not to be thought of that the Flood
Of British freedom, which, to the open sea
A Bouquet
© Henry Timrod
Take first a Cowslip, then an Asphodel,
A bridal Rose, some snowy Orange flowers;
Crotalus
© Francis Bret Harte
No life in earth, or air, or sky;
The sunbeams, broken silently,
On the bared rocks around me lie,
Clipper Days (a song from Snug Harbor)
© Harry Kemp
I am eighty years old and somewhat,
But I give to God the praise
That they made a sailor of me
In the good old Clipper Days
The Golden Game
© Norman Rowland Gale
If ever there was a Golden Game
To brace the nerves, to cure repining,
The Great Grandfather
© Charles Lamb
My father's grandfather lives still,
His age is fourscore years and ten;
He looks a monument of time,
The agedest of aged men.
Fragment: What Men Gain Fairly
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
What men gain fairly -- that they should possess,
And children may inherit idleness,
From him who earns itThis is understood;
Private injustice may be general good.
The House That Was
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Of the old house, only a few, crumbled
Courses of brick, smothered in nettle and dock,
