With its cloud of skirmishers in advance, With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip, and now an irregular volley, The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press on;...
From our Dominion never Take Thy protecting hand, United, Lord, for ever Keep Thou our fathers' land! From where Atlantic terrors Our hardy seamen train, To where the salt sea mirrors...
A shaded lamp and a waving blind, And the beat of a clock from a distant floor: On this scene enter - winged, horned, and spined - A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledore;...
Darkly falls the autumn twilight, rustles by the crisp leaf sere, Sadly wail the lonely night-winds, sweeping sea-ward, chill and drear, Sullen dash the restless waters 'gainst a bleak and rock-bound shore,...
Patrician to my plebian, aristocratic leaning versus unbridled backwoods feeling - distinct Old World breeding countering rudest colonial lean-to; his carcass lay, roadworthy,...
I. Birds of omen dark and foul, Night-crow, raven, bat, and owl, Leave the sick man to his dream, All night long he heard you scream. Haste to cave and ruin'd tower, Ivy tod, or dingled-bower,...
And doth not a meeting like this make amends, For all the long years I've been wandering away-- To see thus around me my youth's early friends, As smiling and kind as in that happy day?...
No, now I wish the sunshine would stop, and the white shining houses, and the gay red flowers on the balconies and the bluish mountains beyond, would be crushed out between two valves of darkness; the darkness falling, the dark...
It was many and many a year ago, In a city by the sea, That a man there lived whom I happened to know By the name of Andrew M'Crie; And this man he slept in another room,...
And when I am entombed in my place, Be it remembered of a single man, He never, though he dearly loved his race, For fear of human eyes swerved from his plan.
Karshish, the picker-up of learning's crumbs, The not-incurious in God's handiwork (This man's-flesh he hath admirably made, Blown like a bubble, kneaded like a paste,...
The train of equipage and pomp of state, The shining sideboard and the burnish'd plate, Let other ministers, great Anne, require, And partial fall thy gift to their desire....
Whether dispensing hope, and ease To the pale victim of disease, Or in the social crowd you sit, And charm the group with sense and wit, Moore's partial ear will not disdain Attention to my artless strain.
I mean no giddy heights to climb, And vainly toil to be sublime; While every line with labour wrought, Is swell'd with tropes for want of thought: Nor shall I call the Muse to shed...
Sir, As once a twelvemonth to the priest, Holy at Rome, here Antichrist, The Spanish king presents a jennet To show his love, that's all that's in it; For if his Holiness would thump...
How could you, Gay, disgrace the Muse's train, To serve a tasteless court twelve years in vain![2] Fain would I think our female friend [3] sincere, Till Bob,[4] the poet's foe, possess'd her ear....