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From Shanklin
by Thomas Henry Huxley (1825-1895)
Dear wife, for more than thirty years
Have you and I, hand clasped in hand,
Sometimes all smiles, sometimes in bitter tears,
Wended our way through the strange land
Of living men; until with silvering hair,
And graver mien and steps more slow,
Adown the strand of age we face
To the still ocean, and beyond time’s [...]
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There Is a Lady Sweet and Kind
by Thomas Ford (1580?-1648)
There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleas’d my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.
Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles,
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love [...]
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Weep You No More, Sad Fountains
by John Dowland (1563-1626)
Weep you no more, sad fountains;
What need you flow so fast?
Look how the snowy mountains
Heaven’s sun doth gently waste.
But my sun’s heavenly eyes
View not your weeping,
[...]
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The Oblation
by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837-1909)
Ask nothing more of me, sweet;
All I can give you I give.
Heart of my heart, were it more,
More would be laid at your feet:
Love that should help you to live,
Song that should [...]
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The Indian Burying Ground
by Philip Morin Freneau (1752-1832)
In spite of all the learned have said,
I still my old opinion keep;
The posture that we give the dead,
Points out the soul’s eternal sleep.
Not so the ancients of these lands
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Epitaph
by Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)
I never cared for Life; Life cared for me,
And hence I owed it some fidelity.
It now says,
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To Amarantha, That She Would Dishevel Her Hair
by Richard Lovelace (1618-1657)
Amarantha sweet and fair,
Ah, braid no more that shining hair!
As my curious hand or eye,
Hovering round thee, let it fly.
Let it fly as unconfined
As its calm ravisher, the wind,
Who hath left his darling, [...]
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To a Coquette
by Quintus Horatius Flaccus (“Horace”) (65 B.C.-8 B.C.)
Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa
perfusus liquidis urget odoribus
grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?
cui flauam religas comam,
simplex munditiis? Heu quotiens fidem
mutatosque deos flebit et aspera
nigris aequora ventis
emirabitur insolens,
qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea,
qui semper vacuam, [...]
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