English Poems – Page 172

More English Poems

• The Vanity of the World

  False world, thou ly’st: thou canst not lend
  The least delight:
  Thy favors cannot gain a friend, …

  Francis Quarles

• The Wail of Prometheus Bound

  From the Greek by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
  From “Prometheus”
  O HOLY Æther, and swift-winged Winds, …

  Æschylus

• Samson on His Blindness

  From “Samson Agonistes”
  O LOSS of sight, of thee I must complain!
  Blind among enemies, O, worse than chains, …

  John Milton

• Lines: “My prime of youth is but a frost of cares”

  [Written in the Tower, the night before his probably unjust execution for treason]
  MY prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
  My feast of joy is but a dish of pain, …

  Chidiock Tichborne

• “Hence, all ye vain delights”

  From “The Nice Valour,” Act III. Sc. 3.
  HENCE, all ye vain delights,
  As short as are the nights …

  John Fletcher

• The Fall of Cardinal Wolsey

  From “King Henry VIII.,” Act III. Sc. 2.
  CROMWELL, I did not think to shed a tear
  In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, …

  William Shakespeare

• The Approach of Age

  From “Tales of the Hall”
  SIX years had passed, and forty ere the six,
  When Time began to play his usual tricks: …

  George Crabbe

• Stanzas Written in Dejection near Naples

  THE Sun is warm, the sky is clear,
  The waves are dancing fast and bright,
  Blue isles and snowy mountains wear …

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

• Perished

  Catskill Mountain House
  WAVE after wave of greenness rolling down
  From mountain top to base, a whispering sea …

  Mary Louise Ritter

• Latest Verses

  “On this day I completed my thirty-sixth year.“
  —MISSOLONGHI, JANUARY 23, 1824.
  ’T IS time this heart should be unmoved, …

  Lord Byron

• A Doubting Heart

  Where are the swallows fled?
  Frozen and dead
  Perchance upon some bleak and stormy shore. …

  Adelaide Anne Procter

• A Lament

  O World! O Life! O Time!
  On whose last steps I climb,
  Trembling at that where I had stood before; …

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

• “What can an old man do but die?”

  SPRING it is cheery,
  Winter is dreary,
  Green leaves hang, but the brown must fly; …

  Thomas Hood

• “Over the hill to the poor-house”

  Over the hill to the poor-house I ’m trudgin’ my weary way—
  I, a woman of seventy, and only a trifle gray—
  I, who am smart an’ chipper, for all the years I ’ve told, …

  Will Carleton

• The Old Vagabond

  Anonymous translation from the French
  HERE in the ditch my bones I ’ll lay;
  Weak, wearied, old, the world I leave. …

  Pierre Jean de Béranger

• The Beggar

  Pity the sorrows of a poor old man!
  Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door,
  Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span, …

  Thomas Moss

• A Rough Rhyme on a Rough Matter

  The English Game Laws
  THE MERRY brown hares came leaping
  Over the crest of the hill, …

  Charles Kingsley

• “They are dear fish to me”

  The Farmer’s wife sat at the door,
  A pleasant sight to see;
  And blithesome were the wee, wee bairns …

  Anonymous

• Give Me Three Grains of Corn, Mother

  The Irish Famine
  GIVE me three grains of corn, mother,—
  Only three grains of corn; …

  Amanda M. Edmond

• The Song of the Shirt

  With fingers weary and worn,
  With eyelids heavy and red,
  A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, …

  Thomas Hood

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