Fear poems

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A Leak in the Dike

© Cary Phoebe

The good dame looked from her cottage At the close of the pleasant day,And cheerily called to her little son Outside the door at play:"Come, Peter, come! I want you to go, While there is light to see,To the hut of the blind old man who lives Across the dike, for me;And take these cakes I made for him-- They are hot and smoking yet;You have time enough to go and come Before the sun is set

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A Lilliputian Ode on their Majesties Accession

© Henry Carey

Smile, smile,Blest Isle!Grief past,(At last)HalcyonComes on

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An Elegy upon the Death of the Dean of St. Paul's, Dr. John Donne

© Thomas Carew

Can we not force from widow'd poetry,Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegyTo crown thy hearse? Why yet dare we not trust,Though with unkneaded dough-bak'd prose, thy dust,Such as th' unscissor'd churchman from the flowerOf fading rhetoric, short-liv'd as his hour,Dry as the sand that measures it, should layUpon thy ashes, on the funeral day?Have we no voice, no tune? Didst thou dispenseThrough all our language, both the words and sense?'Tis a sad truth

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Manfred: Incantation

© George Gordon Byron

When the moon is on the wave, And the glow-worm in the grass,And the meteor on the grave, And the wisp on the morass;When the falling stars are shooting,And the answer'd owls are hooting,And the silent leaves are stillIn the shadow of the hill,Shall my soul be upon thine,With a power and with a sign

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Lines to Mr. Hodgson Written on Board the Lisbon Packet

© George Gordon Byron

Huzza! Hodgson, we are going, Our embargo's off at last;Favourable breezes blowing Bend the canvass o'er the mast

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Lara: Canto the First

© George Gordon Byron

XVIIMuch to be lov'd and hated, sought and fear'd

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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: Canto the Third

© George Gordon Byron

I Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smil'd, And then we parted--not as now we part, But with a hope

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Hudibras: Part I

© Samuel Butler

THE ARGUMENT OF THE FIRST CANTO

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Loss of the S.S. Regulus

© Burke Johnny

Ye daring sons of Newfoundland, That fear not storm or seaPlease hearken for a moment And attention give to me,While I explain in language plain, That filled hearts with dismay,Of how the Regulus got lost In Petty Harbor Bay

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The Rubaiyat of Omar Cayenne

© Gelett Burgess

WAKE! For the Hack can scatter into flightShakespere and Dante in a single Night! The Penny-a-liner is Abroad, and strikesOur Modern Literature with blithering Blight.

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Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXVI

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

When we met first and loved, I did not buildUpon the event with marble

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Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXI

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Thou comest! all is said without a word

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Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXI

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Say over again, and yet once over again,That thou dost love me

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Sonnets from the Portuguese: XVI

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

And yet, because thou overcomest so,Because thou art more noble and like a king,Thou canst prevail against my fears and flingThy purple round me, till my heart shall growToo close against thine heart henceforth to knowHow it shook when alone

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Sonnets from the Portuguese: IX

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Can it be right to give what I can give?To let thee sit beneath the fall of tearsAs salt as mine, and hear the sighing yearsRe-sighing on my lips renunciativeThrough those infrequent smiles which fail to liveFor all thy adjurations? O my fears,That this can scarce be right! We are not peersSo to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,That givers of such gifts as mine are, mustBe counted with the ungenerous

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Aurora Leigh

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Book I I am like,They tell me, my dear father

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I Love Corned Beef

© Bowen A. P.

I LOVE corned beef -- I never knewHow good the stuff COULD taste in stew!I love it WET, I love it DRY,I love it baked and called MEAT PIE

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A Vision out West

© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake

Far reaching down's a solid sea sunk everlastingly to rest,And yet whose billows seem to be for ever heaving toward the westThe tiny fieldmice make their nests, the summer insects buzz and humAmong the hollows and the crests of this wide ocean stricken dumb,Whose rollers move for ever on, though sullenly, with fettered wills,To break in voiceless wrath upon the crumbled bases of far hills,Where rugged outposts meet the shock, stand fast, and hurl them back again,An avalanche of earth and rock, in tumbled fragments on the plain;But, never heeding the rebuff, to right and left they kiss the feetOf hanging cliff and bouldered bluff till on the farther side they meet,And once again resume their march to where the afternoon sun dipsToward the west, and Heaven's arch salutes the Earth with ruddy lips