John Kenyon

(1784-1856 / Jamaica)

John Kenyon Poems

1. Attica Mella 10/12/2010
2. Blushing 10/12/2010
3. Bordighiera 10/12/2010
4. Brook Of Sanguinetto, 10/12/2010
5. Casa Mia 10/12/2010
6. Champagne Rose - I 10/12/2010
7. Champagne Rose - Ii 10/12/2010
8. Childhood - I 10/12/2010
9. Childhood - Ii 10/12/2010
10. Childhood - Iii 10/12/2010
11. Destiny 10/12/2010
12. Dorchester Amphitheatre . 10/12/2010
13. Earthly Parting 10/12/2010
14. Eclipse 10/12/2010
15. Epitaph 10/12/2010
16. Experimentum Crucis 10/12/2010
17. Flowers From Waterloo 10/12/2010
18. For The Same Book 10/12/2010
19. For The Sister’s Album 10/12/2010
20. Fragment. 10/12/2010
21. Freedom 10/12/2010
22. From Anacreon 10/12/2010
23. Gossip 10/12/2010
24. Grammarye 10/12/2010
25. Growing Attachment 10/12/2010
26. Growing Old 10/12/2010
27. Happiness 10/12/2010
28. Hint To The Poets 10/12/2010
29. In A Portrait Gallery 10/12/2010
30. Inscription For A Vase 10/12/2010
31. Inscription For An Eagle’s Foot 10/12/2010
32. L’envoi To A Poem On Tolerance 10/12/2010
33. La Piquante 10/12/2010
34. Lines For The Late Caroline K.’s Album 10/12/2010
35. Lines Sent To Elia, 10/12/2010
36. Lines Suggested By Ode Xxix. Book I. Of Horace 10/12/2010
37. Lines, 10/12/2010
38. Love 10/12/2010
39. Love In Disguise 10/12/2010
40. Love’s Auction 10/12/2010
Best Poem of John Kenyon

Past And Future

Our Past—how strangely swift! Its years—mere months!
Months—clipped to weeks! and longest day—an hour!
But oh! how slow the Future; slow to all
Of every age and being. Yon school-urchin,
Fresh from his Christmas-home, as now he bends him
With saddened brow o'er the black greasy slate;
Or strains himself, at stroke of early clock,
His all-unwelcome bedtime, to confront
Cold touch of wiry sheet, ah! not like home's;
How vainly would he pierce the dim half year

To his next holidays; and asks himself,
'And will they—will they—can they ever come?'
Youth too, ...

Read the full of Past And Future

Aspasia

TO ------.

Bright Aspasia! say—how is it?
Tell us with what spell is rife
Smile of thine, whose briefest visit
Wakes each dullest clod to life?
Zephyr shall we type thee, thawing
Vernal flower from Arctic block?
Or some Attic sun-beam, drawing

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