Simon Lee, the Old Huntsman, by William Wordsworth
In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
Not far from ...
Horse Poems
Song for the Wandering Jew, by William Wordsworth
Though the torrents from their fountains
Roar ...
Strange Fits of Passion Have I Known, by William Wordsworth
Strange fits of passion have I known:
And I w...
The Waggoner, by William Wordsworth
Canto the First 'Tis spentthis burning day of ...
Written in Very Early Youth, by William Wordsworth
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kin...
To Barry Cornwall, by Walter Savage Landor
Barry! Your spirit long ago
Has haunted me; at...
After Passing the Examination, by Bai Juyi
For ten years I never left my books;
I went u...
Rain, by Bai Juyi
A.D. 815 Since I lived a stranger in the City ...
Sleeping on Horseback, by Bai Juyi
A.D. 822 We had rode long and were still far f...
Visiting the Hsi-lin Temple, by Bai Juyi
I dismount from my horse at the Hsi-lin Temple;...
An Exhortation, by Li Bai
Do you not see the waters of the Yellow River
...
The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter, by Li Bai
While my hair was still cut straight across my ...
To His Friend Departing for Shuh, by Li Bai
I hear the Tsang-tsung road
Is rough and rugge...
Georgic II, by Virgil
Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heave...
Georgic III, by Virgil
Thee too, great Pales, will I hymn, and thee...
The Old Village, by Francis Jammes
THE old village was with roses filled,
And I ...
The Bear Hunt, by Abraham Lincoln
A wild-bear chase, didst never see?
Then hast...
The Ballad of Ruth Blay, by Albert Laighton
An old lady, who was present at the execution ...
The Soldier's Funeral, by Anne S. Bushby
Heard ye the sound of the muffled drum
And the...
The Werewolf, by Anne S. Bushby
'Twas at the middle hour of night;
And though...
The Poem of Antara, by Antarah ibn Shaddad
Have the bards who preceded me left any theme u...
A Song of War, by Antarah ibn Shaddad
Go ask the warriors, O daughter of Malec, if ...
California Pioneers of Early Days Crossing the Plains, by August Wilhelm Wern
Many a youth left home and friend
To pioneer a...
Presidio de San Francisco, 1800, by Bret Harte
I Looking seaward, o'er the sand-hills stands...
Hymn to Ceres, by Callimachus
The basket swift-descending from the skies,
T...