A Parson’s Letter To A Young Poet (Jean Ingelow Poems)
They said "Too late, too late, the work is done;Great Homer sang of glory and strong menAnd that fair Greek ...
They said "Too late, too late, the work is done;Great Homer sang of glory and strong menAnd that fair Greek ...
Thou who wert born of Psyche and of LoveAnd fondly nurst on Poesy's warm breast Painting, oh, power adored! My country's sons ...
It may be through some foreign grace,And unfamiliar charm of face;It may be that across the foamWhich bore her from ...
FLYING from out the gusty west,To seek the place where last year's nest,Ragged, and torn by many a routOf winter ...
A hundred years! The very phraseUnsepultures the million'd dead;Three generations in that space,Ghosts of the past, have breathed and fled.Time ...
Yes! on the annals of my race, In characters of flame, Which time shall dim not nor deface, I'll stamp, my deathless name. The ...
ONCE in a land of balm and flowers,Of rich fruit-laden trees,Where the wild wreaths from jasmine bowersTrail o'er Floridian seas;We ...
My youth was passing, Sire, whilst you amongThe cradle-wrappings slept; my morning-songSung o'er your pillow. Winds of heaven have thrownUs ...
I. Like the sweet Naiad of the Grecian's dreams,A Spirit born of Song — unseen, all-seeing—Lives deep within our dark ...
SILENT old gateway! whose two columns stand Like simple monuments on either hand; No trellised iron-work, with pleasant view Of ...
I.Before PROSPERO'S cell. Moonlight.ARIEL.So - Prospero is gone - and I am free -Free, free at last. His latest charge ...
Brief life is here our portion, Brief sorrow, short-lived care: The Life that knows no ending, ...
Upon the city called the Friends'The light of waking springFell vivid as the shadow thrownFar from the gleaming wingOf a ...
I. THE callow eagle in its downy nest, Betwixt the blue above and blue beneath, Or wrapped in swirling cloud ...
I. ALL love-adepts, all faithful hearts who wear In Love's sweet prime-his hour of blossoming- The full, harmonious colours of ...
I. THERE lies betwixt dead Pisa and the sea A haunted forest, with a heart so deep, That none could ...
All through the sultry hours of June,From morning blithe to golden noon,And till the star of evening climbsThe gray-blue East, ...
If a large love of the whole human race, With charity that hopeth a meet cureFor life's ...
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