Poetry Books

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POEMS OF NATURE The world is too much with us; late and soon,Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:Little we see in Nature that is ours;We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!This sea that bares her bosom to the moon,The winds that will be howling at all hours,And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;For this, for everything, we are out of tune;It moves us not.—Great God! I'd... more...

CANTO V Now had I left those spirits, and pursuedThe steps of my Conductor, when beheldPointing the finger at me one exclaim'd:"See how it seems as if the light not shoneFrom the left hand of him beneath, and he,As living, seems to be led on."  Mine eyesI at that sound reverting, saw them gazeThrough wonder first at me, and then at meAnd the light broken underneath, by turns."Why are... more...

THE LAST ORACLE (A.D. 361)Years have risen and fallen in darkness or in twilight,   Ages waxed and waned that knew not thee nor thine,While the world sought light by night and sought not thy light,   Since the sad last pilgrim left thy dark mid shrine.Dark the shrine and dumb the fount of song thence welling,   Save for words more sad than tears of blood, that said: Tell the king, on earth has... more...

Poems. "The Salt of the Earth."The salt of the earth—what a meaningful phraseFrom the lips of the Saviour, and one that conveysA sense of the need of a substance salineThis pestilent sphere to refresh and refine,And a healthful and happy condition secureBy making it pure as the ocean is pure.In all the nomenclature known to the race,In all appellations of people or place,Was ever a name so... more...

by: Anonymous
P. DUJARDINHere foloweth the Interpretacoin of the namesof goddes and goddesses as is rehercedin this tretyse folowynge as Poetes wryte¶ Phebus is as moche to saye as the Sonne.¶ Apollo is the same or elles God of syght.¶ MorpleusShewer of dremis¶ PlutoGod of hell.¶ MynosIuge of hell.¶ CerberusPorter of hell.¶ Colus the wynde or God of the Eyre.¶ Dyana Goddesse of wode and chase.¶ Phebe the... more...

INTRODUCTION. After the publication of his "Table Talk" and other poems in March, 1782, William Cowper, in his quiet retirement at Olney, under Mrs. Unwin's care, found a new friend in Lady Austen. She was a baronet's widow who had a sister married to a clergyman near Olney, with whom Cowper was slightly acquainted. In the summer of 1781, when his first volume was being printed,... more...

A BOOK FOR KIDS THE BAKER   I'd like to be a baker, and come when morning breaks,Calling out, "Beeay-ko!" (that's the sound he makes)--Riding in a rattle-cart that jogs and jolts and shakes,Selling all the sweetest things a baker ever bakes;Currant-buns and brandy-snaps, pastry all in flakes;But I wouldn't be a baker if . . .I couldn't eat the cakes.Would you? THE DAWN... more...

THE SLEEP Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist’s music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this— ‘He giveth His beloved, sleep’! What would we give to our beloved? The hero’s heart to be unmoved, The poet’s star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot’s voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch’s crown, to light the... more...

CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory cannot follow.... more...

Canto I.Right beautiful is Torksey's hall,Adown by meadowed Trent;Right beautiful that mouldering wall,And remnant of a turret tall,Shorn of its battlement. For, while the children of the SpringBlush into life, and die;And Summer's joy-birds take light wingWhen Autumn mists are nigh;And soon the year—a winterling—With its fall'n leaves doth lie;That ruin gray—Mirror'd,... more...