Richard Henry Hengist Horne

  • Far out at sea—the sun was high,
      While veered the wind, and flapped the sail—
    We saw a snow-white butterfly
      Dancing before the fitful gale,
                            Far out at sea!

    The little wanderer, who had lost
      His way, of danger nothing...

  • A Shoal of idlers, from a merchant craft
    Anchored off Alexandria, went ashore,
    And mounting asses in their headlong glee,
    Round Pompey’s Pillar rode with hoots and taunts,
    As men oft say, “What art thou more than we?”
    Next in a boat they floated up the...

  • Above yon sombre swell of land
        Thou seest the dawn’s grave orange hue,
    With one pale streak like yellow sand,
        And over that a vein of blue.

    The air is cold above the woods;
        All silent is the earth and sky,
    Except with his own lonely...