Sonnet, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Methinks ofttimes my heart is like some bee,
...
Animal Poems
The Soul's Farewell to the Body, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
So we must part forever; and although
I long h...
Three and One, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Sometimes she seems so helpless and so mile,
...
The Tiger, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
In the still jungle of the senses lay
A tiger ...
Time and Love, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Time flies. The swift hours hurry by
And speed...
Tired, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I am tired tonight, and something,
The wind ...
What Love Is, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Love is the centre and circumference;
The cau...
An Etching, by Elsie Lanier
A grey ship sails into a misty sky.
Grey sea g...
Bruges, by Ernest Raynaud
O THING of Spain in Flanders left behind,
O i...
Chorus of Satyrs, Driving Their Goats, by Euripides
Chorus from The Cyclops Where has he of race d...
Lost is the Bliss, by Euripides
Chorus from Orestes I Lost is the bliss, the...
Monogamy, by Euripides
Chorus from Andromache I Two rival Consorts n...
O For the Wings of a Dove, by Euripides
Chorus from Hippolytus Could I take me to some...
The Sphynx, by Euripides
Chorus from The Phoenician Women O winged Fien...
Bernardo Del Carpio, by Felicia Hemans
The warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed ...
Alas for Youth, by Ferdowsi
Much have I labored, much read o'er
Of Arabic...
The Death of Yazdagird, by Ferdowsi
From the Shahnameh There was a paladin, a Tur...
How Shirwi ascended the Throne, by Ferdowsi
From the Shahnameh Now when Shirwi sat on the ...
How the Chiefs demanded from Shirwi the Death of Khusrau Parwiz, by Ferdowsi
From the Shahnameh Shirwi, a timid, inexperi...
Marco Bozzaris, by Fitz-Greene Halleck
At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk ...
During the Plague, 1665, by Florence Peacock
Supposed to be spoken by one who had been a tro...
If I Were Dead, by Florence Peacock
If I were dead, with tangled grass above me,
...
A Last Tryst, by Florence Peacock
A knight lies slain by the southern ford,
The...
A Stony Way, by Florence Peacock
You are so far above me; yet I stand
And watch...
Electra, by Francis Howard Williams
My Love too stately is to be but fair,
Too fa...