Poetry
General Books
Sort by:
THE VOICE THAT SINGS The voice that sings across the night Of long forgotten days and things,Is there an ear to hear aright The voice that sings? It is as when a curfew rings Melodious in the dying light,A sound that flies on pulsing wings. And faded eyes that once were bright Brim over, as to life it bringsThe echo of a dead delight, The voice that sings. In vain you fervently...
more...
CHAPTER I The Creation of the Heavens Jehovah has no beginning. He himself created time, and taught its principles to the living things he also created, giving to them comprehension, by which we ascribe, unto the infiniteness of Jehovah a time and a beginning. Before that there were not any man or angels or living creatures of any form created. When there were no worlds yet formed, nature stood in...
more...
by:
Rudyard Kipling
TheCities are full of pride,Challenging each to each—This from her mountain-side,That from her burthened beach.They count their ships full tale—Their corn and oil and wine,Derrick and loom and bale,And rampart's gun-flecked line;City by city they hail:"Hast aught to match with mine?"And the men that breed from themThey traffic up and down,But cling to their cities' hemAs a child to...
more...
TO BELGIUM Our tears, our songs, our laurels—what are these To thee in thy Gethsemane of loss,Stretched in thine unimagined agonies On Hell's last engine of the Iron Cross. For such a world as this that thou shouldst die Is price too vast—yet, Belgium, hadst thou soldThyself, O then had fled from out the earth Honour for ever, and left only Gold. Nor diest thou—for soon shalt...
more...
THE SINGING MAN I He sang above the vineyards of the world. And after him the vines with woven handsClambered and clung, and everywhere unfurled Triumphing green above the barren lands;Till high as gardens grow, he climbed, he stood, Sun-crowned with life and strength, and singing toil,And looked upon his work; and it was good: The corn, the wine, the oil. He sang above the...
more...
THE SISTERS' TRAGEDY A. D. 1670 AGLAE, a widow MURIEL, her unmarried sister. IT happened once, in that brave land that lies For half the twelvemonth wrapt in sombre skies, Two sisters loved one man. He being dead, Grief loosed the lips of her he had not wed, And all the passion that through heavy years Had masked in smiles unmasked itself in tears. No purer love may...
more...
by:
Peter Newell
Where Bobby lives there is a hill—A hill so steep and high,'Twould fill the bill for Jack and JillTheir famous act to try Once Bobby's Go-cart broke awayAnd down this hill it kited.The careless Nurse screamed in dismayBut Bobby was delighted He clapped his hands, in manner rude,And laughed in high elation—While, close behind, the Nurse pursuedIn hopeless consternation An Officer slid off...
more...
by:
Sewell Collins
JANUARYNow Time the harvester surveysHis sorry crops of yesterdays;Of trampled hopes and reaped regrets,And for another harvest whetsHis ancient scythe, eying the whileThe budding year with cynic smile.Well, let him smile; in snug retreatI fill my pipe with honeyed sweet,Whose incense wafted from the bowlShall make warm sunshine in my soul,And conjure mid the fragrant hazeFair memories of other...
more...
The Sword Singing— The voice of the Sword from the heart of the Sword Clanging imperious Forth from Time’s battlements His ancient and triumphing Song. In the beginning,Ere God inspired HimselfInto the clay thingThumbed to His image,The vacant, the naked shellSoon to be Man:Thoughtful He pondered it,Prone there and impotent,Fragile, invitingAttack and discomfiture:Then, with a smile—As He heard...
more...
SONG THE FIRST. Up Riber’s street the dance they ply, The Castle’s won, the Castle’s won!There dance the knights most merrily, For young King Erik Erikson. On Riber’s bridge the dance it goes, The Castle’s won, the Castle’s won!There dance the knights in scollop’d shoes, For young King Erik Erikson. ’Twas Riber Wolf the dance who led, The Castle’s won, the...
more...