An Address to the New Tay Bridge by William Topaz McGonagall
An Address to the New Tay Bridge by William Topaz McGonagall Beautiful new railway bridge of the Silvery Tay, With your strong brick piers and buttresses in so grand array, And your thirteen central girders, which seem to my eye Strong enough all windy storms to defy. And as I gaze upon thee my heart […]
French Revolution, The (excerpt) by William Blake
84 Thee the ancientest peer, Duke of Burgundy, rose from the monarch’s right hand, red as wines 85 From his mountains; an odor of war, like a ripe vineyard, rose from his garments, 86 And the chamber became as a clouded sky; o’er the council he stretch’d his red limbs, 87 Cloth’d in flames of […]
XVI: Some Verses: Of Conquerouris by William Alexander
Thay quho to conqueir all the erth presume, A littill airth schall thame at last consume. Of Kingis Mo Kingis in chalmeris fall by flatterreris charmis, Than in the feild by the aduersareis armis. A Comparisone betuix heich and law Estaitis. The bramble growis althocht it be obscure, Quhillis michty cederis feilis the busteous windis; […]
Doomes-Day: The Eighth Houre by William Alexander
The Argument The Patriarchs, Kings, and Prophets most renown’d, Who came with God by conference friends to be, And (whil’st his Law was of their lives the ground) By him from wants and dangers were made free, And in all temporall blessings did abound, Yet did but Christ by Types and figures see: O how […]
On Pallas Bathing, From A Hymn Of Callimachus by William Cowper
Nor oils of balmy scene produce, Nor mirror for Minerva’s use, Ye nymphs who lave her; she, array’d In genuine beauty, scorns their aid. Not even when they left the skies, To seek on Ida’s head the prize From Paris’ hand, did Juno deign, Or Pallas in the crystal plain Of Simois’ stream her locks […]
A Comparison by William Cowper
The lapse of time and rivers is the same, Both speed their journey with a restless stream; The silent pace, with which they steal away, No wealth can bribe, no prayers persuade to stay; Alike irrevocable both when past, And a wide ocean swallows both at last. Though each resemble each in every part, A […]
A Comparison. Addressed To A Young Lady by William Cowper
Sweet stream that winds through yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid Silent and chaste she steals along, Far from the world’s gay busy throng: With gentle yet prevailing force, Intent upon her destined course; Graceful and useful all she does, Blessing and blest where’er she goes; Pure-bosom’d as that watery glass, And Heaven […]
Whitsuntide An’ Club Walken by William Barnes
Ees, last Whit-Monday, I an’ Meäry Got up betimes to mind the deäiry; An’ gi’ed the milkèn païls a scrub, An’ dress’d, an’ went to zee the club. Vor up at public-house, by ten O’clock the pleäce wer vull o’ men, A-dress’d to goo to church, an’ dine, An’ walk about the pleäce in line. […]
The White Road Up Athirt The Hill by William Barnes
WHEN high hot zuns da strik right down, An’ burn our zweaty fiazen brown, An’ zunny hangens that be nigh Be back’d by hills so blue’s the sky; Then while the bells da sweetly cheem Upon the champen high-neck’d team How lively, wi’ a friend, da seem The white road up athirt the hill. The […]
The Shy Man by William Barnes
Ah! good Meäster Gwillet, that you mid ha’ know’d, Wer a-bred up at Coomb, an’ went little abroad: An’ if he got in among strangers, he velt His poor heart in a twitter, an’ ready to melt; Or if, by ill luck, in his rambles, he met Wi’ zome maïdens a-titt’rèn, he burn’d wi’ a […]
The Hwomestead A-Vell Into Hand by William Barnes
The house where I wer born an’ bred, Did own his woaken door, John, When vu’st he shelter’d father’s head, An’ gramfer’s long avore, John. An’ many a ramblèn happy chile, An’ chap so strong an’ bwold, An’ bloomèn maïd wi’ plaÿsome smile, Did call their hwome o’ wold Thik ruf so warm, A kept […]
The Fancy Feäir At Maïden Newton by William Barnes
The Frome, wi’ ever-water’d brink, Do run where shelvèn hills do zink Wi’ housen all a-cluster’d roun’ The parish tow’rs below the down. An’ now, vor woonce, at leäst, ov all The pleäcen where the stream do vall, There’s woone that zome to-day mid vind, Wi’ things a-suited to their mind. An’ that’s out where […]
Gwaïn Down The Steps Vor Water by William Barnes
While zuns do roll vrom east to west To bring us work, or leäve us rest, There down below the steep hill-zide, Drough time an’ tide, the spring do flow; An’ mothers there, vor years a-gone, Lik’ daughters now a-comèn on, To bloom when they be weak an’ wan, Went down the steps vor water. […]
Evenèn, An’ Maidens Out At Door by William Barnes
Now the sheädes o’ the elems do stratch mwore an’ mwore, Vrom the low-zinkèn zun in the west o’ the sky; An’ the maïdens do stand out in clusters avore The doors, vor to chatty an’ zee vo’k goo by. An’ their cwombs be a-zet in their bunches o’ heäir, An’ their currels do hang […]
Eclogue:–Two Farms In Woone by William Barnes
_Robert an’ Thomas._ ROBERT. You’ll lose your meäster soon, then, I do vind; He’s gwaïn to leäve his farm, as I do larn, At Miëlmas; an’ I be zorry vor’n. What, is he then a little bit behind? THOMAS. O no! at Miëlmas his time is up, An’ thik there sly wold fellow, Farmer Tup, […]
Eclogue:–The ‘Lotments by William Barnes
_John and Richard._ JOHN. Zoo you be in your groun’ then, I do zee, A-workèn and a-zingèn lik’ a bee. How do it answer? what d’ye think about it? D’ye think ’tis better wi’ it than without it? A-recknèn rent, an’ time, an’ zeed to stock it, D’ye think that you be any thing in […]
Eclogue:–A Ghost by William Barnes
_Jem an’ Dick._ JEM. This is a darkish evenèn; b’ye a-feärd O’ zights? Theäse leäne’s a-haunted, I’ve a heärd. DICK. No, I be’nt much a-feär’d. If vo’k don’t strive To over-reach me while they be alive, I don’t much think the dead wull ha’ the will To come back here to do me any ill. […]
The Devil Outwitted by William Somervile
A Vicar liv’d on this side Trent, Religious, learn’d, benevolent, Pure was his life in deed, word, thought, A comment on the truths he taught; His parish large, his income small, Yet seldom wanted wherewithal, For against every merry tide Madam would carefully provide. A painful pastor, but his sheep, Alas! within no bounds would […]
The Busy Indolent by William Somervile
JACK Careless was a man of parts, Well skill’d in the politer arts, With judgment read, with humour writ, Among his friends pass’d for a wit, But lov’d his ease more than his meat, And wonder’d knaves could toil and cheat, To’ expose themselves by being great. At no levees the suppliant bow’d, Nor courted […]
The Brothers by William Wordsworth
“THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live A profitable life: some glance along, Rapid and gay, as if the earth were air, And they were butterflies to wheel about Long as the summer lasted: some, as wise, Perched on the forehead of a jutting crag, Pencil in hand and book upon the knee, Will […]
Michael: A Pastoral Poem by William Wordsworth
. If from the public way you turn your steps Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll, You will suppose that with an upright path Your feet must struggle; in such bold ascent The pastoral mountains front you, face to face. But, courage! for around that boisterous brook The mountains have all opened out themselves, […]
Book Twelfth [Imagination And Taste, How Impaired And Restored ] by William Wordsworth
LONG time have human ignorance and guilt Detained us, on what spectacles of woe Compelled to look, and inwardly oppressed With sorrow, disappointment, vexing thoughts, Confusion of the judgment, zeal decayed, And, lastly, utter loss of hope itself And things to hope for! Not with these began Our song, and not with these our song […]
Book Tenth {Residence in France continued] by William Wordsworth
IT was a beautiful and silent day That overspread the countenance of earth, Then fading with unusual quietness,– A day as beautiful as e’er was given To soothe regret, though deepening what it soothed, When by the gliding Loire I paused, and cast Upon his rich domains, vineyard and tilth, Green meadow-ground, and many-coloured woods, […]
Book Ninth [Residence in France] by William Wordsworth
EVEN as a river,–partly (it might seem) Yielding to old remembrances, and swayed In part by fear to shape a way direct, That would engulph him soon in the ravenous sea– Turns, and will measure back his course, far back, Seeking the very regions which he crossed In his first outset; so have we, my […]
The Hecatomb to his Mistress by John Cleveland
Hecatomb The Hecatomb to his Mistress. Be dumb, you beggars of the rhyming trade, Geld your loose wits and let your Muse be spayed. Charge not the parish with the bastard phrase Of balm, elixir, both the Indias, Of shrine, saint, sacrilege, and such as these Expressions common as your mistresses. Hence, […]