Fear poems
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The Collier's Wife
© William Henry Davies
The collier's wife had four tall sons Brought from the pit's mouth dead, And crushed from foot to head;When others brought her husband home,Had five dead bodies in her room.
The Civil Wars between the Two Houses of Lancaster and York
© Samuel Daniel
The swift approach and unexpected speedThe king had made upon this new-rais'd force,In the unconfirmed troops, much fear did breed,Untimely hind'ring their intended course
The Husband’s and Wife’s Grave
© Dana Richard Henry
Husband and wife! No converse now ye hold,As once ye did in your young days of love,On its alarms, its anxious hours, delays,Its silent meditations, its glad hopes,Its fears, impatience, quiet sympathies;Nor do ye speak of joy assured, and blissFull, certain, and possessed
The Dying Raven
© Dana Richard Henry
Come to these lonely woods to die alone?It seems not many days since thou wast heard,From out the mists of spring, with thy shrill note,Calling upon thy mates -- and their clear answers
Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Part IA silver ring that he had beaten outFrom that same sacred coin--first well-priz'd wageFor boyish labour, kept thro' many years
The Task: from Book IV: The Winter Evening
© William Cowper
Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge,That with its wearisome but needful lengthBestrides the wintry flood, in which the moonSees her unwrinkled face reflected bright,He comes, the herald of a noisy world,With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks;News from all nations lumb'ring at his back
[To Margot Heinemann]
© Rupert John Cornford
Heart of the heartless world,Dear heart, the thought of youIs the pain at my side,The shadow that chills my view.
Requiescat in Pace
© Cooke Edmund Vance
The man who fears to go his way alone, But follows where the greater number tread,Should hasten to his rest beneath a stone; The great majority of men are dead.
How Did You Die?
© Cooke Edmund Vance
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way With a resolute heart and cheerful?Or hide your face from the light of day With a craven soul and fearful?Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce, Or a trouble is what you make it,And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, But only how did you take it?
You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that? Come up with a smiling face
The Passions
© William Taylor Collins
When Music, heav'nly maid, was young,While yet in early Greece she sung,The Passions oft, to hear her shell,Throng'd around her magic cell,Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,Possest beyond the Muse's painting;By turns they felt the glowing mindDisturb'd, delighted, rais'd, refin'd:Till once, 'tis said, when all were fir'd,Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspir'd,From the supporting myrtles roundThey snatch'd her instruments of sound;And as they oft had heard apartSweet lessons of her forceful art,Each, for madness rul'd the hour,Would prove his own expressive pow'r
Watercolour for Negro Expatriates in France
© Clarke George Elliott
What are calendars to you?And, indeed, what are atlases? Time is cool jazz in Bretagne,you, hidden in berets or eccentric scarves,somewhere over the rainbow
Everything Is Free
© Clarke George Elliott
Wipe away tears,Set free your fears:Everything is free.Only the lonelyNeed much money:Everything is free.
To the Ladies
© Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
WIFE and servant are the same,But only differ in the name :For when that fatal knot is ty'd,Which nothing, nothing can divide :When she the word obey has said,And man by law supreme has made,Then all that's kind is laid aside,And nothing left but state and pride :Fierce as an eastern prince he grows,And all his innate rigour shows :Then but to look, to laugh, or speak,Will the nuptial contract break
The Triumph of Love
© Govinda Krishna Chettur
Dearest, and yet more dear than I can tell In these poor halting rhymes, when, word by word, You spell the passion that your beauty stirredSwiftly to flame, and holds me as a spell,You will not think he writeth "ill" or "well", Nor question make of the fond truths averred, But Love, of that, by Love's self charactered, A perfect understanding shall impel
