Travel poems
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Ode to Winter
© Thomas Campbell
When first the fiery-mantled sun
His heavenly race begun to run;
Round the earth and ocean blue,
His children four the Seasons flew.
The Foggy Dew
© Katharine Tynan
A splendid place is London, with golden store,
For them that have the heart and hope and youth galore;
But mournful are its streets to me, I tell you true,
For I'm longing sore for Ireland in the foggy dew.
The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
The Constellations
© William Cullen Bryant
O constellations of the early night,
That sparkled brighter as the twilight died,
And made the darkness glorious! I have seen
Your rays grow dim upon the horizon's edge,
Lines Left Upon The Seat Of A Yew-Tree,
© William Wordsworth
which stands near the lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding a beautiful prospect.
NAY, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
The Passionate Man's Pilgrimage
© Sir Walter Raleigh
Give me my scallop shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon,
L'ile Sainte Croix
© Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton
WITH tangled brushwood overgrown,
And here and there a lofty pine,
Around whose form strange creepers twine,
And crags that mock the wild sea's moan,
Idyll XII. The Comrades
© Theocritus
Art come, dear youth? two days and nights away!
(Who burn with love, grow aged in a day.)
As much as apples sweet the damson crude
Excel; the blooming spring the winter rude;
Meeting Of The Alumni Of Harvard College
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I THANK you, MR. PRESIDENT, you've kindly broke the ice;
Virtue should always be the first,--I 'm only SECOND VICE--
(A vice is something with a screw that's made to hold its jaw
Till some old file has played away upon an ancient saw).
Ode IV: To The Honourable Charles Townshend In The Country
© Mark Akenside
I. 1.
How oft shall i survey
96. The Inventory
© Robert Burns
SIR, as your mandate did request,
I send you here a faithfu list,
O gudes an gear, an a my graith,
To which Im clear to gie my aith.
The Old Professor
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
See, there he goes, a-pulling his long beard;
With frowning brow, and far and absent gaze,
April Byeway
© Edmund Blunden
Friend whom I never saw, yet dearest friend,
Be with me travelling on the byeway now
242. The Poets Progress
© Robert Burns
THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign;
Of thy caprice maternal I complain.
The peopled fold thy kindly care have found,
The hornèd bull, tremendous, spurns the ground;
372. SongKellyburn Braes
© Robert Burns
THERE lived a carl in Kellyburn Braes,
Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi thyme;
And he had a wife was the plague of his days,
And the thyme it is witherd, and rue is in prime.
A Poem Beginning With A Line From Pindar
© Robert Duncan
But the eyes in Goyas painting are soft,
diffuse with rapture absorb the flame.
Their bodies yield out of strength.
Waves of visual pleasure
wrap them in a sorrow previous to their impatience.
The Dance Of Death
© Henry Austin Dobson
He is the despots' Despot. All must bide,
Later or soon, the message of his might;
463. SongThe Highland Balou
© Robert Burns
HEE balou, my sweet wee Donald,
Picture o the great Clanronald;
Brawlie kens our wanton Chief
Wha gat my young Highland thief.
