All Poems

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The Hunting Horn Of Chalemagne

© Caroline Norton

Heard midst the rushing of the torrent's fall,
From castled crag to roofless ruin'd hall,
Down the ravine's precipitous descent,
Thro' the wild forest's rustling boughs it went,
Upon the lake's blue bosom linger'd fond,
And faintly answer'd from the hills beyond:

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Good-By To The Cradle

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

GOOD-BY to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle,
The rude hand of Progress has thrust it aside:
No more to its motion, o'er Sleep's fairy ocean,
Our play-weary wayfarers peacefully glide;

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To The Right Honourable The Lady Elizabeth Boyle On Her Birth—Day

© Mary Barber

May each new Year some new Perfection give,
Till all the Mother in the Daughter live!
May'st Thou her Virtues to the World restore!
And be what Henrietta was before!

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Lynching

© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer

Have you ever heard of lynching in the great United States?
'Tis an awful, awful story that the Negro man relates,
How the mobs the laws have trampled, both the human and divine,
In their killing helpless people as their cruel hearts incline.

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The Rose

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

As late each flower that sweetest blows
I pluck'd, the Garden's pride!
Within the petals of a Rose
A sleeping Love I 'spied.

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The Periwinkle Girl

© William Schwenck Gilbert

I've often thought that headstrong youths
Of decent education,
Determine all-important truths,
With strange precipitation.

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Ride to Kandahar

© Rudyard Kipling

Then we brought the lances down-then the trumpets blew-
When we went to Kandahar, ridin' two an' two.
  Ridin'-ridin'-ridin' two an' two!
 Ta-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-a!
 All the way to Kandahar,
  Ridin' two an' two.

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The Good Shepherd With The Kid

© Matthew Arnold

  _He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save._
  So rang Tertullian's sentence, on the side
  Of that unpitying Phrygian Sect which cried:
  "Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave,

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Must I Wait All My Life; or, The Misery Song

© Eli Siegel

(Uncouth-and-not Anthem of the Particular and
General Unconscious)
Must I wait all my life for a certain thing to happen?
Must I spend all my days just in dozin', just in nappin'?

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The Thief

© Abraham Cowley

Thou robb'st my days of business and delights,

  Of sleep thou robb'st my nights ;

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Saarijarven Paavo

© Johan Ludvig Runeberg

Paavo took the good-wife´s hand and spake thus:
"Nay, the Lord but trieth, not forsaketh,
Mix thou in the bread a half of bark now,
I shall dig out twice as many ditches,
And await then from the Lord the increase.

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The Sage Enamoured And The Honest Lady

© George Meredith

Our world believes it stabler if the soft
Are whipped to show the face repentance wears.
Then hear it, in a moan of atheist gloom,
Deplore the weedy growth of hypocrites;
Count Nature devilish, and accept for doom
The chasm between our passions and our wits!

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Margaret

© Edith Nesbit

I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow,

  Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs;

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A Meaning Learnt

© Lesbia Harford

I'm not his wife. I am his paramour:
His wayside love, picked up in journeying:
Rose of the hedgerows; fragrant, till he fling
Me down beside the ditch, a drooped thing
Some country boy may stick into his hat.
A paramour has no more use than that.

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Immigration

© Anonymous

Now Jordan's land of promise is the burden of my song,
Perhaps you've heard him lecture, and blow about it strong;
To hear him talk you'd think it was a heaven upon earth,
But listen and I'll tell you now the plain unvarnished truth.

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Sonnet V.

© John Milton

Per certo i bei vostr'occhi Donna mia
Esser non puo che non fian lo mio sole
Si mi percuoton forte, come ci suole
Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,

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The Happy Islands

© Inez Isabel Maud Peacocke

O FAR away, and far away,  


 The Happy Islands lie;  

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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XL

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

THE SAME CONTINUED
'Tis strange we are thus parted, not by death
Or man's device, but by our own mad will,
We who have stood together on life's path

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Old North Sydney

© Henry Lawson

THEY’RE shifting old North Sydney—

  Perhaps ’tis just as well—

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Ferry Hinksey

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Beyond the ferry water
That fast and silent flowed,
She turned, she gazed a moment,
Then took her onward road