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A dozen poems
For todayA version friendly to printer and palmtop
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A Summer Day, by Alexander Hume
O PERFECT Light, which shaid away
The darkness from the light,
And set a ruler o'er the day,
Another o'er the night--
Thy glory, when the day forth flies,
Step, by John Metcalfe
Hey, you violet thing
Dance around your amber ways
Move sly and slither that step
Silky smooth silent saunter
My my you black cat
False though She be, by William Congreve
FALSE though she be to me and love,
I'll ne'er pursue revenge;
For still the charmer I approve,
Though I deplore her change.
In hours of bliss we oft have met:
Night, by James Brunton Stephens
Hark how the tremulous night-wind is passing in joy-laden sighs;
Soft through my window it comes, like the fanning of pinions angelic,
Whispering to cease from myself, and look out on the infinite skies.
Out on the orb-studded night, and the crescent effulgence of Dian;
Out on the far-gleaming star-dust that marks where the angels have trod;
Verses from the Shepherds' Hymn, by Richard Crashaw
WE saw Thee in Thy balmy nest,
Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw Thine eyes break from the East,
And chase the trembling shades away:
We saw Thee, and we blest the sight,
To the Cuckoo, by John Logan
HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove!
Thou messenger of Spring!
Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat,
And woods thy welcome ring.
What time the daisy decks the green,
The Sad Day, by Thomas Flatman
O THE sad day!
When friends shall shake their heads, and say
Of miserable me--
'Hark, how he groans!
Look, how he pants for breath!
Quis Separabit?, by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
All my life's short years had been stern and sterile --
I stood like one whom the blasts blow back --
As with shipmen whirled through the straits of Peril,
So fierce foes menaced my every track.
But I steeled my soul to a strong endeavour,
The Plough, a Landscape in Berkshire, by Richard Henry Horne
ABOVE yon sombre swell of land
Thou see'st 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;
`The Love in her Eyes lay Sleeping', by William Forster
The love in her eyes lay sleeping,
As stars that unconscious shine,
Till, under the pink lids peeping,
I wakened it up with mine;
And we pledged our troth to a brimming oath
He fell among Thieves, by Henry Newbolt
'YE have robb'd,' said he, 'ye have slaughter'd and made an end,
Take your ill-got plunder, and bury the dead:
What will ye more of your guest and sometime friend?'
'Blood for our blood,' they said.
He laugh'd: 'If one may settle the score for five,
Let's Set Our Children Free, by Chris Webster
She took the picture from the wall as tears ran down her cheek,
Then showed the picture all around as she began to speak.
"I'm here to tell her story folks, I feel it should be told,
About this girl with eyes of brown and hair with streaks of gold."
"My one and only daughter, who at sixteen years of age,
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