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Classical Poems


Title Poet
Written at the Request of a Gentleman to Whom a Lady Had G..
What hopes - what terrors does this gift create?
Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate.
Samuel Johnson poet by Samuel Johnson
on 4/7/2010
Written At Trenton Falls
Come down! from where the everlasting hills
Open their rocky gates to let thee pass,
Frances Anne Kemble poet by Frances Anne Kemble
on 9/6/2010
Written at Tunbridge--Wells
These Plains, so joyous once to me,
Now sadly chang'd appear:
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written At Tunbridge—Wells, To The Right Honourable The La..
Faint--Fair, and act a Play.
In some few Hours we must repair,
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written Before Re-Reading King Lear
O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away!
John Keats poet by John Keats
on 1/13/2003
Written Christmas Day 1797
I am a widow'd thing, now thou art gone!
Now thou art gone, my own familiar friend,
Charles Lamb poet by Charles Lamb
on 4/10/2010
Written For A Gentlewoman In Distress, To Her Grace Adelid..
Might I inquire the Reasons of my Fate,
Or with my Maker dare expostulate;
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written for a Musician
Hungry for music with a desperate hunger
I prowled abroad, I threaded through the town;
Vachel Lindsay poet by Vachel Lindsay
on 1/3/2003
Written For My Son
When Athens was for Arts and Arms renown'd,
Olympic Wreaths uncommon Merit crown'd.
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written for my Son ... at his First Putting on Breeches
WHAT is it our mamma's bewitches,
To plague us little boys with breeches ?
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 5/8/2001
Written for my Son ... upon his Master's First Bringing in..
OUR master, in a fatal hour,
Brought in this Rod, to shew his pow'r.
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 5/8/2001
Written For My Son In His Sickness, To One Of His School f..
I little thought that honest Dick
Would slight me so, when I was sick.
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written For My Son To His Master, On The Anniversary Of Th..
Is what we owe great William then
Forgotten by ungrateful Men?
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written For My Son, And Spoken By Him, At A public Examina..
To you, Athenians, we again submit;
Reward, or punish us, as you think fit.
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written For My Son, In A Bible Which Was Presented To Him.
Welcome, thou sacred, solemn Guest,
Who com'st to guide me to the Blest.
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written For My Son, To Mr. Barry;
Since Phoebus makes your Verse divine,
Since the God glows in ev'ry Line;
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written For My Son, To Some Of The Fellows Of The College,
We of late had a terrible Rout in our House;
If I happen'd to speak, I was sure of a Souse.
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written For My Son, Upon Lady Santry's Coming To School, T..
So Ceres, lovely and divine,
Eager to see her Proserpine,
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written For One In Sore Pain
Shepherd, on before thy sheep,
Hear thy lamb that bleats behind!
George MacDonald poet by George MacDonald
on 4/9/2010
Written From Dublin, To A Lady In The Country.
A wretch, in smoaky Dublin pent,
Who rarely sees the Firmament,
Mary Barber poet by Mary Barber
on 4/20/2010
Written in 1834
Well, when her day is over, be it said
That, though a speck on the terrestrial globe,
Samuel Rogers poet by Samuel Rogers
on 9/3/2010
Written In A Blank Leaf Of Macpherson's Ossian
OFT have I caught, upon a fitful breeze,
Fragments of far-off melodies,
William Wordsworth poet by William Wordsworth
on 4/5/2010
Written in a Collection of Bacchanalian Songs
Adieu, ye jovial Youths! who join
To plunge old Care in floods of wine;
William Shenstone poet by William Shenstone
on 4/19/2010
Written in a Copy of 'Yesterday'
Thoughts are apples on the tree,
Not meant for anyone in particular,
Hugo von Hofmannsthal poet by Hugo von Hofmannsthal
on 5/3/2012
Written In A Country Churchyard
Oh! how I hate the cumbrous pride
Of plume and pall and scutcheon'd hearse,
John Kenyon poet by John Kenyon
on 10/12/2010
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