• William Wordsworth

    The Daffodils

    I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o’er vales and hills,When all at once I saw a crowd,A host, of golden daffodils;Beside the lake, beneath the trees,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shineAnd twinkle on the milky way,They stretched in never-ending lineAlong the…

  • Thomas Hood

    A Lake And A Fairy Boat

    A lake and a fairy boatTo sail in the moonlight clear, –And merrily we would floatFrom the dragons that watch us here! Thy gown should be snow-white silkAnd strings of oriental pearls,Like gossamers dipped in milk,Should twine with thy raven curls! Red rubies should deck thy hands,And diamonds should be…

  • George Gordon Byron - Lord Byron

    She walks in Beauty

    SHE walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that ‘s best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes:Thus mellow’d to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.One shade the more, one ray the less,Had half impair’d the nameless graceWhich waves in…

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    Song From Heine

    I scanned her picture dreaming,Till each dear line and hueWas imaged, to my seeming,As if it lived anew. Her lips began to borrowTheir former wondrous smile;Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,Grew sparkling as erstwhile. Such tears as often ran notRan then, my love, for thee;And O, believe I cannotThat thou…

  • William Lisle Bowles

    The Butterfly And The Bee

    Methought I heard a butterflySay to a labouring bee,Thou hast no colours of the skyOn painted wings, like me. Poor child of vanity! those dyes,And colours bright and rare,With mild reproof, the bee replies,Are all beneath my care. Content I toil from morn till eve,And, scorning idleness,To tribes of gawdy…

  • Alfred Lord Tennyson

    The Brook

    Alfred Lord Tennyson (England 1809 – 1892) I come from haunts of coot and hern,I make a sudden sallyAnd sparkle out among the fern,To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down,Or slip between the ridges,By twenty thorpes, a little town,And half a hundred bridges. Till last by…

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    Darkness and Light

    To break out of the chaos of my darknessInto a lucid day is all my will.My words like eyes in night, stare to reachA centre for their light: and my acts thrownTo distant places by impatient violenceYet lock together to mould a path of stoneOut of my darkness into a…

  • Anthony Keyes

    Son et Lumière

    England’s petite nautical Norman church, St Nicholas.A high altar apex oasis, green Uphill downsSound swept by howling savanna winds.Wondrous panoramic views, fluttering Chalkhill Blues.A time out of time, sweet Aromatic Thyme.Dark Viking hours, treading on Yellow Rock Rose.From the flame, to the crest;The returning rambling robin constructs her nest. Seafaring…

  • David Paley

    Réveil

      Qu’il y ait de sombres nuages ou que le ciel soit lumineux,Je suis indifférent au temps lorsque c’est ton soleil qui brille.Que la pluie tombe sur moi ou que la neige s’étale en couche épaisse sur le sol,Je mépriserai le torrent et me réjouirai de la morsure de l’hiver.Et…

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    Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain…

    Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brainFull charactered with lasting memory,Which shall above that idle rank remainBeyond all date even to eternity – Or at the least, so long as brain and heartHave faculty by nature to subsist;Till each to razed oblivion yield his partOf thee, thy record never can…