Walter Richard Cassels

(1826-1907 / England)

Walter Richard Cassels Poems

1. Memnon 10/11/2010
2. Orion 10/11/2010
3. Orpheus 10/11/2010
4. Sea Margins 10/11/2010
5. Serenade 10/11/2010
6. Song I 10/11/2010
7. Song Ii 10/11/2010
8. Sonnet 10/11/2010
9. Sonnet - Datur Hora Quieti 10/11/2010
10. Sonnet I - On The Death Of The Duke Of Wellington 10/11/2010
11. Sonnet Ii - On The Death Of The Duke Of Wellington 10/11/2010
12. Sonnet Iii - On The Death Of The Duke Of Wellington 10/11/2010
13. Sonnet Iii - On The Death Of The Duke Of Wellington 10/11/2010
14. Sonnet Iv - On The Death Of The Duke Of Wellington 10/11/2010
15. Spring 10/11/2010
16. Star In The East 10/11/2010
17. The Bell 10/11/2010
18. The Bittern 10/11/2010
19. The Dark River 10/11/2010
20. The Delectable Mountains 10/11/2010
21. The Eagle 10/11/2010
22. The Golden Water 10/11/2010
23. The Land's End 10/11/2010
24. The Morning Star 10/11/2010
25. A Challenge 10/11/2010
26. A Conceit 10/11/2010
27. A Dirge 10/11/2010
28. A Night Scene 10/11/2010
29. A Shell 10/11/2010
30. A Withered Rose-Bud 10/11/2010
31. At Parting 10/11/2010
32. Beatrice Di Tenda 10/11/2010
33. Floating Down The River 10/11/2010
34. Gone 10/11/2010
35. Guy Of Warwick 10/11/2010
36. Hebe 10/11/2010
37. The Olden Time 10/11/2010
38. The Passage-Birds 10/11/2010
39. The Raven 10/11/2010
40. To My Dream-Love 10/11/2010
Best Poem of Walter Richard Cassels

Llewellyn

The tale is pitiful. 'Twas on this wise--
Llewellyn went at morn among the hills,
To hunt, as is his use. My lady, too,
With all her maidens, early sallied forth,
A pilgrimage among the neighbouring vales,
Culling of simples, nor yet comes she home;
And so the child lay sleeping in his crib,
With Gelert--you remember the old hound?
He pull'd the stag of ten down by the Holy Well--
With Gelert set to watch him like a nurse.

MONK.

The dog alone? nay! friend, but that is strange!

MORGAN.

Strange! Not a whit, for fifty times before
The ...

Read the full of Llewellyn

A Night Scene

The lights have faded from the little casement,
As though her closing eyes had brought on night;
And now she dreams--Ah! dreams supremely bright,
While silence reigns around from roof to basement.
And slow the moon is mounting up the sky,
Drawing Heaven's myriads in her queenly train,
Flinging rich largesse, as she passes by,
Of beauty freely over hill and plain.

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