THE YOUNG MAN’S SONG I whispered, “I am too young,” And then, “I am old enough”; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. “Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair,” Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops…
Those Who Love by Sara Teasdale
Those Who Love by Sara Teasdale Those who love the most Do not talk of their love; Francesca, Guenevere, Dierdre, Iseult, Heloise In the fragrant gardens of heaven Are silent, or speak, if at all, Of fragile, inconsequent things. And a woman I used to know Who loved one man from her youth, Against the…
Old Poets by Joyce Kilmer
Old Poets If I should live in a forest And sleep underneath a tree, No grove of impudent saplings Would make a home for me. I’d go where the old oaks gather, Serene and good and strong, And they would not sigh and tremble And vex me with a song. The pleasantest sort of poet…
The Tempest by James T. Fields
The Tempest We were crowded in the cabin, Not a soul would dare to sleep, It was midnight on the waters, And a storm was on the deep. ‘Tis a fearful thing in winter To be shattered in the blast, And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder, “Cut away the mast!” So we shuddered there…
THE WORLD’S WAY by William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare was born at Stratford-on-Avon in April, 1564, and died there April 23, 1616. His fame rests chiefly upon his dramatic compositions. His two narrative poems, “Venus
Break, Break, Break by Alfred Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
EPITAPH ON A HARE by William Cowper
EPITAPH ON A HARE by William Cowper Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue, Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne’er tainted morning dew, Nor ear heard huntsman’s halloo; Old Tiney, surliest of his kind, Who, nursed with tender care, And to domestic bounds confined, Was still a wild Jack hare. Though duly from my…
HOW TO DIE by Siegfried Sassoon
Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967)
HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR by Robert Herrick
HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR Only a little more I have to write: Then I’ll give o’er, And bid the world good-night. ‘Tis but a flying minute, That I must stay, Or linger in it: And then I must away. O Time, that cut’st down all, And scarce leav’st here Memorial Of any men that were;poe…
Ode On The Spring by Thomas Gray
Ode On The Spring by Thomas Gray Lo! where the rosy-bosomed Hours, Fair Venus’ train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year! The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo’s note, The untaught harmony of spring: While, whisp’ring pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs thro’ the clear blue sky Their…