Imitation Of Tibullus. Sulpicia Ad Cerinthum (Lib. Quart.).
Gordon Byron, Lord Byron George
Cruel Cerinthus! does the fell disease
Which racks my breast your fickle bosom please?
Alas! I wish'd but to o'ercome the pain,
That I might live for Love and you again;...
I. M. - Margaritae Sorori (1886) - A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies
William Ernest Henley
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies;
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, grey city
An influence luminous and serene,...
In Honour Of That High And Mighty Princess, Queen Elizabeth
(Dudley) Bradstreet Anne
Although great Queen, thou now in silence lie,
Yet thy loud Herald Fame, doth to the sky
Thy wondrous worth proclaim, in every clime,
And so has vow'd, whilst there is world or time....
Alfred Lord Tennyson
On Translations of Homer
Hexameters acrd Pentameters.
These lame hexameters the strong-wing'd music of Homer!
No'but a most burlesque barbarous experiment....
John Greenleaf Whittier
Have I not voyaged, friend beloved, with thee
On the great waters of the unsounded sea,
Momently listening with suspended oar
For the low rote of waves upon a shore...
Inscriptions Written With A Slate Pencil Upon A Stone, The Largest Of A Heap Lying Near A Deserted Quarry, Upon One Of The Islands At Rydal.
Stranger! this hillock of mis-shapen stones
Is not a Ruin spared or made by time,
Nor, as perchance thou rashly deem'st, the Cairn
Of some old British Chief: 'tis nothing more...
In The Quiet Days - An Old-Year Song
Oliver Wendell Holmes
As through the forest, disarrayed
By chill November, late I strayed,
A lonely minstrel of the wood
Was singing to the solitude
I loved thy music, thus I said,
When o'er thy perch the leaves were spread...
In The Servants' Quarters
"Man, you too, aren't you, one of these rough followers of the criminal?
All hanging hereabout to gather how he's going to bear
Examination in the hall." She flung disdainful glances on...
It's A Queer Time
It's hard to know if you're alive or dead
When steel and fire go roaring through your head.
One moment you'll be crouching at your gun
Traversing, mowing heaps down half in fun:...
I Wish I Had A Quiet Tomb
Louisa May Alcott
"I wish I had a quiet tomb,
Beside a little rill;
Where birds, and bees, and butterflies,
Would sing upon the hill."
Justus quidem tu es, Domine, si disputem tecum: verum-tamen justa loquar ad te: Quare via impiorum prospera- tur? &c.
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend
With thee; but, sir, so what I plead is just.
Why do sinners' ways prosper? and why must
Disappointment all I endeavour end?
Lament Of Mary Queen Of Scots
Smile of the Moon! for I so name
That silent greeting from above;
A gentle flash of light that came
From her whom drooping captives love;
Or art thou of still higher birth?...
Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots, On The Approach Of Spring.
Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea:
Now Phoebus cheers the crystal streams,...
Life And Death. A Quatrain.
Of our own selves God makes a glass, wherein
Two shadows image them as might a breath:
And one is Life, whose other name is Sin;
And one is Love, whose other name is Death.
Lines, In Answer To A Question.
Frances Anne Kemble
I'll tell thee why this weary world meseemeth
But as the visions light of one who dreameth,
Which pass like clouds, leaving no trace behind;
Why this strange life, so full of sin and folly,...
Lines Written At Fredensborg, The Deserted Palace Of The Late Queen Dowager Juliana Maria
Bless'd are the steps of Virtue's queen!
Where'er she moves fresh roses bloom;
And, when she droops, kind Nature pours
Her genuine tears in gentle show'rs,
That love to dew the willow green...
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Do you remember the name I wore -
The old pet-name of Little Queen -
In the dear, dead days that are no more,
The happiest days of our lives, I ween?
For we loved with that passionate love of youth...
Love And A Question
Robert Lee Frost
A stranger came to the door at eve,
And he spoke the bridegroom fair.
He bore a green-white stick in his hand,
And, for all burden, care.
He asked with the eyes more than the lips...
William Butler Yeats
Where has Maid Quiet gone to,
Nodding her russet hood?
The winds that awakened the stars
Are blowing through my blood.
O how could I be so calm
When she rose up to depart?...
Mary Queen Of Scots - Landing At The Mouth Of The Derwent, Workington
Dear to the Loves, and to the Graces vowed,
The Queen drew back the wimple that she wore;
And to the throng, that on the Cumbrian shore
Her landing hailed, how touchingly she bowed!...