Be well assured that on our side The abiding oceans fight, Though headlong wind and heaping tide Make us their sport to-night. By force of weather, not of war, In jeopardy we steer....
Friend, thou beholdest the lightning? Who has the charge of it, To decree which rock-ridge shall receive, shall be chosen for targe of it? Which crown among palms shall go down, by the thunderbolt broken;...
Have you no Bananas, simple townsmen all? 'Nay, but we have them certainly. 'We buy them off the barrows, with the vegetable-marrows 'And the cabbage of our own country,...
Now praise the Gods of Time and Chance That bring a heart's desire, And lay the joyous roads of France Once more beneath the tyre, So numbered by Napoleon, The veriest ass can spy...
Oh, light was the world that he weighed in his hands! Oh, heavy the tale of his fiefs and his lands! He has gone from the guddee and put on the shroud, And departed in guise of bairagi avowed! ...
Fair is our lot, O goodly is our heritage! (Humble ye, my people, and be fearful in your mirth!) For the Lord our God Most High He hath made the deep as dry,...
Now, this is the cup the White Men drink When they go to right a wrong, And that is the cup of the old world's hate, Cruel and strained and strong. We have drunk that cup, and a bitter, bitter cup,...
Where's the lamp that Hero lit Once to call Leander home? Equal Time hath shovelled it 'Neath the wrack of Greece and Rome. Neither wait we any more That worn sail which Argo bore. ...
Mithras, God of the Morning, our trumpets waken the Wall! 'Rome is above the Nations, but Thou art over all!' Now as the names are answered, and the guards are marched away,...
I'm just in love with all these three, The Weald and the Marsh and the Down country. Nor I don't know which I love the most, The Weald or the Marsh or the white Chalk coast! ...
Of all the trees that grow so fair, Old England to adorn, Greater are none beneath the Sun, Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn. Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs, (All of a Midsummer morn!)...
I tell this tale, which is strictly true, Just by way of convincing you How very little, since things were made, Things have altered in building trade. ...
'T was Fultah Fisher's boarding-house, Where sailor-men reside, And there were men of all the ports From Mississip to Clyde, And regally they spat and smoked, And fearsomely they lied. ...
Before a midnight breaks in storm, Or herded sea in wrath, Ye know what wavering gusts inform The greater tempest's path; Till the loosed wind Drive all from mind,...
"Oh, where are you going to, all you Big Steamers, With England's own coal, up and down the salt seas?" "We are going to fetch you your bread and your butter,...
When the cabin port-holes are dark and green Because of the seas outside; When the ship'goes wop (with a wiggle between) And the steward falls into the soup-tureen, And the trunks begin to slide;...
The doors were wide, the story saith, Out of the night came the patient wraith. He might not speak, and he could not stir A hair of the Baron's minniver. Speechless and strengthless, a shadow thin,...
These were my companions going forth by night (For Chil! Look you, for Chil!) Now come I to whistle them the ending of the fight. (Chil! Vanguards of Chil!) Word they gave me overhead of quarry newly slain,...