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Afternoon in February
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
red. The snow recommences; The buried fences
Mark
no longer The road o'er the plain; While throug
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Afton Water
Robert Burns
sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, 10 Far
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'd with the courses of clear winding rills; 11
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Ah, Bleak And Barren Was The Moor
William Makepeace Thackeray
orphan-boy the lattice pass'd, And, as he
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'd its cheerful glow, Felt doubly keen the midnight b
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Ainsi Va le Monde
Mary Darby Robinson
of exterior grace; Thy hand, by Nature guided,
mark
s the line That stamps perfection on the form
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Alas! And Did My Savior Bleed?
Isaac Watts
bathed in its own blood— While the firm
mark
of wrath divine, His Soul in anguish stood. Was it fo
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Alnaschar and the Oxen
Rudyard Kipling
And, where yon heifer lifts her head at call,
Mark
the bosom's just abundance 'neath the gay and
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Alsace-Lorraine
George Meredith
round of harvests red from crimson seed, It
mark
s the current Hours show leaf by leaf, And rails at
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America
John Boyle O'Reilly
these, too, crumble till no signs remain To
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its place upon the wind-swept plain. Why died t
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America to England
Katharine Lee Bates
The roar of traffic hushes to the skies; Or
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, while Paul's vast shadow softly lies On Gordon
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An Anniversary On The Hymeneals Of My Noble kinsman, Tho. S
Richard Lovelace
By these made bright, Have you not
mark
'd their coelestial play, And no more peek'd the
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An Anniversary On The Hymeneals Of My Noble kinsman, Tho. Stanley, Esquire.
Richard Lovelace
By these made bright, Have you not
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'd their coelestial play, And no more peek'd the
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An Answer
Alfred Austin
Come, let us go into the lane, love mine, And
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and gather what the Autumn grows: The creamy elder mellowed into wine, The russet hip that was t...
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An Appeal to Women
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
drops a-gleamin', Streamin' from our rheumy eye!
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our weskits palpitatin'. Pray ye, be accommod
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An Autumn Sonnet
Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And behold, love, this! --Now, therefore, let us
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this fortunate day, And use it for our feast
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AN ELEGY Upon the most Incomparable K. Charles the First
Henry King
Justice must lay the Murther at your Door.
Mark
if the Body does not Bleed anew, In any Circumst
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An English Peasant
George Crabbe
felt humanely, and he warmly loved: I
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'd his action when his infant died, And his old neighbour
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An Epistle Addressed To Sir Thomas Hanmer, On His Edition Of Shakspeare's Works
William Taylor Collins
tortured heart; Or paint the curse that
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'd the Theban's (1) reign, A bed incestuous, and a fa
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An Essay on Criticism
Alexander Pope
not beyond your depth, but be discreet, And
mark
that point where Sense and Dulness meet. Nature
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An Essay on Man in Four Epistles: Epistle 1
Alexander Pope
kindly giv'n, That each may fill the circle
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'd by Heav'n: Who sees with equal eye, as God
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An Evening Song.
Sidney Lanier
off, dear Love, across the sallow sands, And
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yon meeting of the sun and sea, How long they ki
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An Indian at the Burial-Place of his Fathers.
William Cullen Bryant
hills and prostrate trees below. And then to
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the lord of all, The forest hero, trained to war
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An Invitation to Dafnis
Anne Kingsmill Finch
compasses go round, When faery Cercles better
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the ground. Rich Colours on the Vellum cease to
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An Ode, On the Death of Mr. Henry Purcell
John Dryden
Royal, and of St. Peter's Westminster I
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how the Lark and Linnet Sing, With rival Notes Th
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An Onset
James Clerk Maxwell
tear ye, they'll split ye, fly lance to the
mark
, Home, home to the heart, and thou battle-axe grim
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Angutivaun Taina
Rudyard Kipling
place, We heard him scratch below, We made our
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, and we watched beside, Out on the edge of
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