All Poems
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To his Friends of Christ-Church upon the mislike of the Marriage of the Arts acted at Woodstock
© Henry King
But is it true, the Court mislik't the Play,
That Christ-Church and the Arts have lost the day;
That Ignoramus should so far excell,
Their Hobby-horse from ours hath born the Bell?
From Myrtis
© Walter Savage Landor
FRIENDS, whom she lookd at blandly from her couch
And her white wrist above it, gem-bedewd,
Were arguing with Pentheusa: she had heard
Report of Creons death, whom years before
Battle Of Brunanburgh
© Alfred Tennyson
Theirs was a greatness
Got from their Grandsires-
Theirs that so often in
Strife with their enemies
Struck for their hoards and their hearths and their homes.
What We Want
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
All nail the dawn of a new day breaking,
When a strong-armed nation shall take away
Great City
© Harold Monro
When all the lamps were lighted in the town
I passed into the street ways and I watched,
Wakeful, almost happy,
And half the night I wandered in the street.
The Hammock's Complaint
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Who thinks how desolate and strange
To me must seem the autumn's change,
When housed in attic or in chest,
A lonely and unwilling guest,
I lie through nights of bleak December,
And think in silence, and remember.
Sonnet XXIX. Life And Death. 1.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
O SOLEMN portal, veiled in mist and cloud,
Where all who have lived throng in, an endless line,
Forbid to tell by backward look or sign
What destiny awaits the advancing crowd;
Love's Reveller.
© Robert Crawford
Hard have you won her, and must hold as fast!
She is Love's reveller those tawny eyes
Are up and down still in warm passion cast,
And woe betide the soul whom they surprise!
Untimely Love
© Mathilde Blind
Poor helpless blossom orphaned of the sun,
How could it thus brave winter's rude estate?
Oh love, more helpless, why bloom so late,
Now that the flower-time of the year is done?
Since thy dear course must end when scarce begun,
Nipped by the cold touch of relentless fate.
When Christmas Comes
© Virna Sheard
For thee, my small one--trinkets and new toys,
The wine of life and all its keenest joys,
When Christmas comes.
For me, the broken playthings of the past
That in my folded hands I still hold fast,
When Christmas comes.
Floridi. De Ebrioso
© Richard Lovelace
Phoebus asleep forbad me wine to take:
I yield; and now am only drunk awake.
To Mrs. ---
© Mary Barber
Celia, when you oblige again.
Subdue that haughty Eye:
Rather than Insolence fustain,
Who would not wish to die?
A grateful Heart will own the Debt,
But, O! must feel it with Regret.
The Shadows
© George MacDonald
My little boy, with smooth, fair cheeks,
And dreamy, large, brown eyes,
Not often, little wisehead, speaks,
But hearing, weighs and tries.
Lines written In An Album
© Helen Maria Williams
BRIGHT nymphs, of NEWA'S banks the pride,
Receive, before we part,
For you, and your maternal guide,
The wishes of my heart!
Cadenabbia. Lake Of Como. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks
The silence of the summer day,
As by the loveliest of all lakes
I while the idle hours away.
Ballad of Queensland
© Anonymous
Oh! don't you remember Black Alice, Sam Holt -
Black Alice so dusky and dark -
