Age poems
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The Song
© Charles Mair
Here me, ye smokeless skies and grass-green earth,
Since by your sufferance still I breathe and live!
Man the Monarch
© Mary Leapor
A tattling Dame, no matter where, or who;
Me it concerns not-and it need not you;
Once told this Story to the listening Muse,
Which we, as now it serves our Turn, shall use.
The Comparison, the Choice, and the Enjoyment.
© Mather Byles
I.
Who on the Earth, or in the Skies,
Thy Beauties can declare?
Jesus, dear Object of my Eyes,
My Everlasting Fair.
From The Spanish Of Pedro De Castro Y Anaya
© William Cullen Bryant
Stay, rivulet, nor haste to leave
The lovely vale that lies around thee.
Why wouldst thou be a sea at eve,
When but a fount the morning found thee?
Country Letter
© John Clare
Dear brother robin this comes from us all
With our kind love and could Gip write and all
Young Kings and Old
© Henry Lawson
The young man strives to determine which are the truths or lies,
And the old man preaches his sermonand he takes to his bed and dies;
And the parson is there, and the nurse is (or the bread is there and the wine)
And the son of the minister curses as he dies in the firing line.
Elegy I
© Rainer Maria Rilke
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
The Ruin And Its Flowers
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Breathe, fragrance! breathe, enrich the air,
Tho' wasted on its wing unknown!
Blow, flow'rets! blow, tho' vainly fair,
Neglected and alone!
The Dance To Death. Act V
© Emma Lazarus
LIEBHAID.
The air hangs sultry as in mid-July.
Look forth, Claire; moves not some big thundercloud
Athwart the sky? My heart is sick.
Trinitas
© John Greenleaf Whittier
At morn I prayed, "I fain would see
How Three are One, and One is Three;
Read the dark riddle unto me."
An October Evening
© William Wilfred Campbell
There is slumber and death in the silence,
There is hate in the winds so keen;
And the flash of the north's great sword-blade
Circles its cruel sheen.
The Ballad of the Elder Son
© Henry Lawson
A son of elder sons I am,
Whose boyhood days were cramped and scant,
The Task: Book V. -- The Winter Morning Walk
© William Cowper
Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb
Ascending, fires the horizon; while the clouds,
"The Rock" In El Ghor
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Dead Petra in her hill-tomb sleeps,
Her stones of emptiness remain;
Around her sculptured mystery sweeps
The lonely waste of Edom's plain.
Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II
© Samuel Butler
Next him his Son and Heir Apparent
Succeeded, though a lame vicegerent;
Who first laid by the Parliament,
The only crutch on which he leant;
And then sunk underneath the State,
That rode him above horseman's weight.
The Kings Prophecie
© Joseph Hall
What Stoick could his steely brest containe
(If Zeno self, or who were made beside
Of tougher mold) from being torne in twaine
With the crosse Passions of this wondrous tide?
Grief at ELIZAES toomb, orecomne anone
With greater ioy at her succeeded throne?
Olney Hymn 25: Jehovah Jesus
© William Cowper
My song shall bless the Lord of all,
My praise shall climb to His abode;
Thee, Saviour, by that name I call,
The great Supreme, the mighty God.
Some Account Of A New Play
© Richard Harris Barham
Tavistock Hotel, Nov. 1839.
Dear Charles,
- In reply to your letter, and Fanny's,
Lord Brougham, it appears, isn't dead,- though Queen Anne is;
'Twas a 'plot' and a 'farce'- you hate farces, you say -
Take another 'plot,' then, viz. the plot of a Play.
