haiku stringlengths 5 2.3k | source stringlengths 1 74 |
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i breathe but in the hope his altered breast
may seek another and have mine at rest
or if unwonted fondness now i feign | img2poems |
within that cave debate waxed warm and strange
loud in the cave debate waxed warm and strange
in that dark council words waxed warm and strange | img2poems |
methinks a short release by ransom wrought
of all his treasures not too cheaply bought
methinks a short release for ransom gold | img2poems |
that sought from form so fair no more than this
that kiss the first that frailty wrung from faith
that last on lips so warm with rosy breath | img2poems |
oh
ne'er may tyrant leave behind
a brighter name to lure mankind | img2poems |
vain froward child of empire
say
are all thy playthings snatched away | img2poems |
produce the urn that hannibal contains
and weigh the mighty dust which yet remains
and is this all | img2poems |
why comes he not
such truths to be divulged
methinks the accuser's rest is long indulged | img2poems |
yes you might hate abhor but from the breast
he wrung an all unwilling interest
vain was the struggle in that sightless net | img2poems |
the harp the minstrel monarch swept
the first of men the loved of heaven
which music cherished while she wept | img2poems |
shall sorrow on the waters gaze
and lost in deep remembrance dream
as if her footsteps could disturb the dead | img2poems |
my father was the shepherd's son
ah were my lot as lowly
my earthly course had softly run | img2poems |
oh
pass not by the northern veteran's claim
but give support the world hath given him fame | img2poems |
what was his hope
he looked upon the wave
despite of all it still may be his grave | img2poems |
if one should meet thee
how should we greet thee
in silence and tears | img2poems |
this soul in its bitterest moments shall be
and our days run as swift and our moments more sweet
with thee at my side than the world at my feet | img2poems |
thy vice might raise th' avenging steel
thy meanness shield thee from the blow
and they who loathe thee proudly feel | img2poems |
young flowers and a far-spreading tree
may wave on the spot of thy rest
but nor cypress nor yew let it be | img2poems |
and take a dark unmeasured tone
and make a melancholy moan
to mortal voice and ear unknown | img2poems |
by fancy framed
which rings a deep internal knell
a visionary passing-bell | img2poems |
what sees she there
there she sees a damsel bright
drest in a silken robe of white | img2poems |
what sound is borne on the wind
is it the storm that shakes
the thousand oaks of the forest | img2poems |
is it the river's roar
dashed down some rocky descent
etc | img2poems |
like a picture that magic had charmed from its frame
lifeless but life-like and ever the same
or like a picture come forth from its canvas and frame | img2poems |
but in a higher niche alone but crowned
the virgin-mother of the god-born child
with her son in her blessed arms looked round | img2poems |
myr
'tis fired
i come | img2poems |
and left their food the unburied dead
and left their food the untasted dead
and howling left | img2poems |
much learning madden when with scarce a peer
she soared through science with a bright career
nor talents swell | img2poems |
and thou wast as a lovely tree
whose branch unbroke but gently bent
still waved with fond fidelity | img2poems |
hey-a-day-a-day my dear
dandelion time
come and let us make for them a pretty little rhyme | img2poems |
and don't you think the man up there
will wonder what it is and stare
perhaps hell say well i declare | img2poems |
or maybe if it chance there are
some little boys in yonder star
and if it floats away so far | img2poems |
perhaps they'll jump up very high
and catch the cord as it goes by
at any rate i hope they'll try | img2poems |
then eddy into curls
of a million misty swirls
and thread the air with silver and embroider it with pearls | img2poems |
christ the lord is risen to-day
angels rolled the stone away
from the tomb wherein he lay | img2poems |
little children come and sing
glory glory to the king
christ the lord of everything | img2poems |
the popper's full and we'll have to stop
pile the bowl with the tempting treat
children come it is time to eat | img2poems |
oh yes
six i've counted and
one is in our pile of sand | img2poems |
when these pretty sights appear
it is surely very clear
april's here | img2poems |
let all clasp hands as we dance and sing
to the blessed tree and the blessed night
when the christ-child walks in the candles' light | img2poems |
here he lies where he longed to be
home is the sailor home from the sea
and the hunter home from the hill | img2poems |
three of us aboard in the basket on the lea
winds are in the air they are blowing in the spring
and waves are on the meadow like the waves there are at sea | img2poems |
he pulled down all his musty tomes in latin and in greek
essays in anthropology studies in counterpoise
for these he said are useful lore for little girls and boys | img2poems |
he sailed and sailed and sailed and sailed he feared the dew would fall
he tried to turn but oh that steam
it would not do at all | img2poems |
in difficulties oft we see
modern improvements frequently
will prove a happy remedy | img2poems |
and they had on the green
where 'twas all dry and clean
the best game of leap-frog that ever was seen | img2poems |
i've a lovely new cup from uncle john
said dorothy only see
it has beautiful golden letters on | img2poems |
and when you see that anywhere
at least since this fuss with spain
it's the president who puts it there | img2poems |
'twas christmas eve
in the old oak hall
preparations were made for the christmas ball | img2poems |
o noble lady
her suitor cried
'twas only a merry test i tried | img2poems |
in the studio and these two portraits
if i had my choice
and then these sketches in the mood of greece | img2poems |
and so the space
of my still consciousness
is full of gilded snow | img2poems |
where the hibiscus flares would cymbals clash
and the black cypress like a deep bassoon
would hum a clouded amber melody | img2poems |
but does the morning play
whatever they demand
or silver saraband | img2poems |
the pool
ii in a minor
allegretto | img2poems |
the birds
iii in f major
presto | img2poems |
the orange tree
in d major
presto meno assai | img2poems |
to the moon
iv in a major
allegro con brio | img2poems |
strange that he sleeps today when life is young
and the wild banners of the spring are blowing
with green inscriptions of the old delight | img2poems |
i learned what music meant i read the years
i found where rainbows hide where tears begin
i trod the precincts of things yet unborn | img2poems |
white grave goddess
pity my sadness
o silence of paros | img2poems |
i have told thee of the hills
and the lisp of reeds
and the sun upon thy breasts | img2poems |
the old man crouched there eyeless horrible
complacent in the marketable mask
that earned his comforts and they gave to him | img2poems |
a hundred years in silence i dwelt in the pit
the dust of the coal has settled upon my eyes
bread with coal is the fruit that my toiling bore | img2poems |
now leaps one into the press
the hell 'twixt front and front
sangar bloody and torn of dress | img2poems |
and the great prophet passed
serene clear and untroubled
into the silence vast | img2poems |
beyond the beat and stress
the chant of her shrill unjaded
empiric loveliness | img2poems |
general william booth enters into heaven
(to be sung to the tune of the blood of the lamb
with indicated instruments | img2poems |
vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath
unwashed legions with the ways of death
are you washed in the blood of the lamb | img2poems |
every slum had sent its half-a-score
the round world over booth had groaned for more
every banner that the wide world flies | img2poems |
the wayfarers
earth i dare not cling to thee
lest i should lose my precious soul | img2poems |
m'amour she called i've pardoned you
when i had kissed your dead face once
love's sweet returned to me | img2poems |
the buttercups are nodding in the sunlight
the winds are whispering whispering to the pine
the joy of june has found me as an aureole it's crowned me | img2poems |
in arcady by moonlight
there is a pool where only
the fairest roses grow | img2poems |
the hard sand breaks
and the grains of it
are clear as wine | img2poems |
but the shadow of them
is not the shadow of the mast head
nor of the torn sails | img2poems |
yet undissuaded come we here to make
not thine enrichment but our own who wake
thy echoing fame | img2poems |
and of their love or hate the foolish wars
echo up faintly where amid lone stars
thy soul may be | img2poems |
she stands unhuman bleak aghast
an empty temple of the lord
from which the jocund lord has passed | img2poems |
of sparkling unrevealing eyes
they track in gentle aimless chase
the moment as it flies | img2poems |
for as summer leaves are bent and shake
with singers passing through
so moves in me continually | img2poems |
o'er grief o'er gladness even o'er death apace
for i could greet your phantom so it brought
love's own reality | img2poems |
martha
o martha
somebody is knocking | img2poems |
what woman but would be
rid of thy mastery
thou bully of the sea | img2poems |
a scarlet blossom at her lips
a new babe at her breast
a singer at a wine-shop door | img2poems |
who may i be
have i betrayed her from her home
i am called liberty | img2poems |
which strips the distance of its fantasies
and brings life near in utter nakedness
making the cold reality too real | img2poems |
she was his sight
for never did he turn his glance until
her own had led by gazing on an object | img2poems |
the river of your love
must in the ocean of your affection
to me be swallowed up | img2poems |
[if thou speak'st false
upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive
till famine cling thee | img2poems |
but here all is
so shadowy and so full of twilight that
it speaks of a day past | img2poems |
then most pleased i shook
my inmost pocket's most retired nook
and out fell five and sixpence | img2poems |
illume
with hectic light the hesperus of the dead
of her consuming cheek the autumnal leaf-like red | img2poems |
a firm will and a deep sense
which even in torture can descry
its own concentered recompense | img2poems |
that through this sufferance i might be forgiven
i have employed my penance to record
how salem's shrine was won and how adored | img2poems |
yes leonora
it shall be our fate
to be entwined | img2poems |
how short your hair is
lord
how grey it's grown | img2poems |
the tuscan's siren tongue
that music in itself whose sounds are song
the poetry of speech | img2poems |
above the works and thoughts of man
what nature could but would not do
and beauty and canova can | img2poems |
no matter
i have bared my brow
full in death's face before and now | img2poems |
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