All Poems
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The Avalanche
© Alaric Alexander Watts
'Tis Night; and Silence with unmoving wings
Broods o'er the sleeping waters;ânot a sound
The Battle Of Kings Mountain
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OFTTIMES an old man's yesterdays o'er his frail vision pass,
Dim as the twilight tints that touch a dusk-enshrouded glass;
But, ah! youth's time and manhood's prime but grow more brave, more bright,
As still the lengthening shadows steal toward the rayless night.
The Green River
© Lord Alfred Douglas
I know a green grass path that leaves the field,
And like a running river, winds along
The True Aaron
© John Newton
See Aaron, God's anointed priest,
Within the veil appear;
In robes of mystic meaning dressed,
Presenting Israel's prayer.
That Wind I Used To Hear It Swelling
© Emily Jane Brontë
That wind I used to hear it swelling
With joy divinely deep
You might have seen my hot tears welling
But rapture made me weep
Three Men Of Truro
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Aloft with us! And while another stone
Swings to its socket, haste with trowel and hod!
Win the old smile a moment ere, alone,
Soars the great soul to bear report to God.
Night falls; but thou, dear Captain, from thy star
Look down, behold how bravely goes the war!
Beware! (From The German)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
She has two eyes, so soft and brown,
Take care!
She gives a side-glance and looks down,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
Delfica
© Gerard de Nerval
La connais-tu, Dafné, cette ancienne romance,
Au pied du sycomore, ou sous les lauriers blancs,
St. Swithin's Chair
© Sir Walter Scott
On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere yon boune ye to rest,
Ever beware that your couch be bless'd;
Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead,
Sing the Ave, and say the Creed.
Summer
© Johannes Carl Andersen
And sleeps thy heart when flower and tree
Adorn the summer stillness?
Noble Deeds
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Whene'er a noble deed is wrought,
Whene'er is spoken a noble thought,
Our hearts in glad surprise,
To higher levels rise.
THe River Saguenay
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Few poets yet in praise of thee
Have tuned a passing lay,
Yet art thou rich in beauties stern,
Thou dark browed Saguenay!
Premonition
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
LAST night I dreamed
No dream of joy or sorrow,
Yet, when I woke, I wept,
Knowing the brightness of some far to-morrow
Had darkened while I slept!
The Preparative
© Thomas Traherne
My Body being Dead, my Limbs unknown;
Before I skilled [sic] to prize
Sonnet LXIV: Ardour And Memory
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The cuckoo-throb, the heartbeat of the Spring;
The rosebud's blush that leaves it as it grows
Hymn IV. Dear Jesu, when, when will it be,
© John Austin
Dear Jesu, when, when will it be,
That I no more shall break with Thee!
Good-Bye
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Fools! must we ever quarrel with our fate,
Too late
Reading the worth of what we did despise,
And wise
At the journey's end to weep it scarce begun
When done?
We Are Getting to the End
© Thomas Hardy
We are getting to the end of visioning
The impossible within this universe,
Such as that better whiles may follow worse,
And that our race may mend by reasoning.
The Awakening
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I DID not know that life could be so sweet,
I did not know the hours could speed so fleet,
