Philoclea and Pamela sweet, By chance, in one great house did meet; And meeting, did so join in heart, That th' one from th' other could not part: And who indeed (not made of stones)...
"Are women fair?" Ay, wondrous fair to see, too. "Are women sweet?" Yea, passing sweet they be, too. Most fair and sweet to them that only love them; Chaste and discreet to all save them that prove them. ...
Listen now this time Shortly to my rhyme That herewith starts About certain kind hearts In those stricken parts That lie behind Calais, Old crones and aged men...
A great and glorious thing it is To learn, for seven years or so, The Lord knows what of that and this, Ere reckoned fit to face the foe, The flying bullet down the Pass,...
As beats the sun from mountain crest, With "pretty, pretty", Cometh the partridge from her nest; The flowers threw kisses sweet to her (For all the flowers that bloomed knew her);...
My harp soon ceases; but I here allege Its strings are in my heart and tremble there: My Song's last strain shall be a claim and pledge - A claim, a pledge, a prayer! ...
And as the allied hosts advance All the left wing is given to France, Is given to France and - Fame! Yes, these together always ride The Dioscouroi of the tide Where War plays out the game!...
But, in that fiery zone She upriseth not alone, Over all the bloody fields Glitter Amazonian shields; While through the mists of years Another form appears, And as I bow my head...
Death, I would plead against thy wrong, Who hast reft me of my love, my wife, And art not satiate yet with strife, But needs wilt hold me lingering long. No strength since then has kept me strong:...
As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while. ...
There's some is born with their straight legs by natur - And some is born with bow-legs from the first - And some that should have grow'd a good deal straighter, But they were badly nurs'd,...
AS a strong bird on pinions free, Joyous, the amplest spaces heavenward cleaving, Such be the thought I'd think to-day of thee, America, Such be the recitative I'd bring to-day for thee. ...
His Grace! impossible! what, dead! Of old age too, and in his bed! And could that mighty warrior fall, And so inglorious, after all? Well, since he's gone, no matter how,...
Sometimes I feel so passionate a yearning For spiritual perfection here below, This vigorous frame, with healthful fervor burning, Seems my determined foe,
List, the winds of March are blowing; Her ground-flowers shrink, afraid of showing Their meek heads to the nipping air, Which ye feel not, happy pair! Sunk into a kindly sleep....
When foes are o'ercome, we preserve them from slaughter, To be hewers of wood, and drawers of water. Now, although to draw water is not very good, Yet we all should rejoice to be hewers of Wood....
Do you think, you slaves of a thousand years to poverty, wealth and pride, You can crush the spirit that has been free in a land that's new and wide?...