Thankful poems
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Book Fourth [Summer Vacation]
© William Wordsworth
BRIGHT was the summer's noon when quickening steps
Followed each other till a dreary moor
Book Tenth {Residence in France continued]
© William Wordsworth
IT was a beautiful and silent day
That overspread the countenance of earth,
Epilogue To Lessing's Laocooen
© Matthew Arnold
One morn as through Hyde Park we walk'd,
My friend and I, by chance we talk'd
A Fable For Critics
© James Russell Lowell
'Why, nothing of consequence, save this attack
On my friend there, behind, by some pitiful hack,
Who thinks every national author a poor one,
That isn't a copy of something that's foreign,
And assaults the American Dick--'
Tasso Dying
© Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
But it's too late! I stand before the fatal borne.
To wild applause I won't step on Capitoline,
And glory's laurels on my feeble head
Won't sweeten the bard's frightful lot.
Tale XX
© George Crabbe
flown:
All swept away, to be perceived no more,
Like idle structures on the sandy shore,
The chance amusement of the playful boy,
That the rude billows in their rage destroy.
Poor George confess'd, though loth the truth to
Amours De Voyage, Canto II
© Arthur Hugh Clough
P.S.
Mary has seen thus far.-I am really so angry, Louisa,-
Quite out of patience, my dearest! What can the man be intending?
I am quite tired; and Mary, who might bring him to in a moment,
Lets him go on as he likes, and neither will help nor dismiss him.
Love's Suicide
© Edith Nesbit
Le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle.
THIS treasure of love, these passion-flowers,
The Lay Of The Lady Lorraine
© Carolyn Wells
In vain they entreated, they begged and they plead,
They coaxed and besought, and they sullenly said
That she was hard-hearted, unfeeling, and cruel.
They challenged each other to many a duel;
They scowled and they scolded, they sulked and they sighed,
But they could not win Lady Lorraine for a bride.
Metamorphoses: Book The Sixth
© Ovid
The End of the Sixth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Amy Wentworth
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Her fingers shame the ivory keys
They dance so light along;
The bloom upon her parted lips
Is sweeter than the song.
The Resurrection
© Giacomo Leopardi
I thought I had forever lost,
Alas, though still so young,
The tender joys and sorrows all,
That unto youth belong;
The Brus Book V
© John Barbour
The king goes to Carrick; he upbraids Cuthbert]
Thys wes in ver quhen wynter tid
Blind Old Milton
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
Place me once more, my daughter, where the sun
May shine upon my old and time-worn head,
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam 251-500 (Whinfield Translation)
© Omar Khayyám
Are you depressed? Then take of bhang one grain,
Of rosy grape-juice take one pint or twain;
Sufis, you say, must not take this or that,
Then go and eat the pebbles off the plain!
Annus Memorabilis : Written in Commemoration of His Majesty's Happy Recovery
© William Cowper
I ransack'd for a theme of song,
Much ancient chronicle, and long;
Hope
© William Cowper
Ask what is human life -- the sage replies,
With disappointment lowering in his eyes,
The Revolt Of Islam: Canto I-XII
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
There is no danger to a man, that knows
What life and death is: there's not any law
Exceeds his knowledge; neither is it lawful
That he should stoop to any other law.
-Chapman.
