CHASE POEMS

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My Loving Heart

My loving heart..

Isn't it so rich n beautiful
It's warmth can melt candle wax
.....
Maite Lemekwane

Maite Lemekwane
God Neither Known Nor Loved By The World

Ye linnets, let us try, beneath this grove,
Which shall be loudest in our Maker's praise!
In quest of some forlorn retreat I rove,
For all the world is blind, and wanders from his ways.
.....
William Cowper

William Cowper
Fits And Befits

Ten rolling fingers
Few bold and straight
Rest not assured
With faith and fate.
.....
Debjani Chatterjee

Debjani Chatterjee
The Barefoot Boy

Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
.....
John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier
Stop Thief!

Policeman, policeman,
Help me please.
Someone went and stole my knees.
I-d chase him down but I suspect
.....
Shel Silverstein

Shel Silverstein
On The Banks Of A Rocky Stream

Behold an emblem of our human mind
Crowded with thoughts that need a settled home,
Yet, like to eddying balls of foam
Within this whirlpool, they each other chase
.....
William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
A Stone For A Heart

The Broken and The Hurt
Walking in the pavements
The whole body shakin'
Eyes in undecided movements
.....
Demetrius White

Demetrius White
" Enslaved "

The lashes stained deep beneath his melanin, tears incubates, but pours without. Led by chains for he was manly built, intimidating appearance, on his face there weren't a grin.

The ships came in minutes they were filled, off to the North with gracious wind, many die of hunger, some from lashes, thrown overboard big creatures feasted.

.....
Mark Burrell

Mark Burrell
A Befitting Send-off

Brothers, carry out the autopsy gently
That corpse was a rich man's residence
The carcass was never an ordinary body
To be hacked and dug upon
.....
Michael Aete

Michael Aete
Venus And Adonis

Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
.....
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
Evening Voluntaries - To Lucca Giordano

Giordano, verily thy Pencil's skill
Hath here portrayed with Nature's happiest grace
The fair Endymion couched on Latmos-hill;
And Dian gazing on the Shepherd's face
.....
William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
Serve From Heart

I chase You chase,
Not to kill innocent animals,
Just to save the harvest,
Where commoner have invested.
.....
Norbu Dorji

Norbu Dorji
My Last Farewell To Stirling

Nae lark in transport mounts the sky
Or leaves wi' early plaintive cry,
But I will bid a last good-bye,
My last farewell to Stirling O.
.....
Robert Burns

Robert Burns
The Fraternal Duel

‘Oh! hide me from the sun! I loath the sight!
I cannot bear his bright, obtrusive ray:
Nought is so dreadful to my gloom as light!
Nothing so dismal as the blaze of day!
.....
Matilda Betham

Matilda Betham
The English Flag

Above the portico a flag-staff, bearing the Union Jack,
remained fluttering in the flames for some time, but ultimately
when it fell the crowds rent the air with shouts,
and seemed to see significance in the incident. -- DAILY PAPERS.
.....
Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling
Endymion: Book I

ENDYMION.

A Poetic Romance.

.....
John Keats

John Keats
Lepanto

White founts falling in the courts of the sun,
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;
There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard,
.....
G. K. Chesterton

G. K. Chesterton
Views Of Life

When sinks my heart in hopeless gloom,
And life can shew no joy for me;
And I behold a yawning tomb,
Where bowers and palaces should be;
.....

Anne Brontë
Letter To Maria Gisborne

The spider spreads her webs, whether she be
In poet's tower, cellar, or barn, or tree;
The silk-worm in the dark green mulberry leaves
His winding sheet and cradle ever weaves;
.....
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Sonnets Cxliii - Lo, As A Careful Housewife Runs To Catch

Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
One of her feather'd creatures broke away,
Sets down her babe, and makes all swift dispatch
In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;
.....
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
The Songs Of Selma

ARGUMENTAddress to the evening star:

An apostrophe to Fingal and his times. Minonasings before the king the song of the unfortunate Colma; and the bards exhibit other specimens of their poetical talents; according to an annual custom established by the monarchs of the ancient Caledonians.

.....

James Macpherson
Battle Of Hastings - I

O CHRYSTE, it is a grief for me to tell;
HOW manie a nobil erle and valrous knyghte
In fyghtynge for Kynge Harrold noblie fell,
Al sleyne in Hastyngs feeld in bloudie fyghte.
.....

Thomas Chatterton
The Man Against The Sky

Between me and the sunset, like a dome
Against the glory of a world on fire,
Now burned a sudden hill,
Bleak, round, and high, by flame-lit height made higher,
.....
Edwin Arlington Robinson

Edwin Arlington Robinson
In The Droving Days

"Only a pound," said the auctioneer,
"Only a pound; and I'm standing here
Selling this animal, gain or loss --
Only a pound for the drover's horse?
.....

Banjo Paterson
To Mr. I. P.

BLEST are your north parts, for all this long time
My sun is with you ; cold and dark's our clime ;
Heaven's sun, which stay'd so long from us this year,
Stay'd in your north, I think, for she was there ;
.....
John Donne

John Donne
To Hope

When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my “mind's eye” flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
.....
John Keats

John Keats
Pictures From Theocritus

FROM IDYL I.

Goat-herd, how sweet above the lucid spring
The high pines wave with breezy murmuring!
.....

William Lisle Bowles
Endymion: Book Iii

There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men
With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen
Their baaing vanities, to browse away
The comfortable green and juicy hay
.....
John Keats

John Keats
Green Grow The Rashes

Green grow the rashes, O!
Green grow the rashes, O!
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O!
.....
Robert Burns

Robert Burns
Once More Into My Arid Days Like Dew

Once more into my arid days like dew,
Like wind from an oasis, or the sound
Of cold sweet water bubbling underground,
A treacherous messenger, the thought of you
.....
Edna St. Vincent Millay

Edna St. Vincent Millay
Ode On A Distant Prospect Of Eton College

Ye distant spires, ye antique towers,
That crown the watery glade,
Where grateful Science still adores
Her Henry's holy shade;
.....
Thomas Gray

Thomas Gray
The Wind In A Frolic

The wind one morning sprang up from sleep,
Saying, “Now for a frolic! now for a leap!
Now for a madcap, galloping chase!
I'll make a commotion in every place!”
.....
William Howitt

William Howitt
To The Butterfly.

Lovely insect, haste away,
Greet once more the sunny day;
Leave, O leave the murky barn,
Ere trapping spiders thee discern;
.....
John Clare

John Clare
The Hunting Of The Snark

Dedication

Inscribed to a dear Child:
in memory of golden summer hours
.....
Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll
To A Mouse

On Turning her up in her Nest with the Plough

Wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie,
O what a panic's in thy breastie!
.....
Robert Burns

Robert Burns
Heyoka Wacipee, The Giant's Dance

The night-sun sails in his gold canoe,
The spirits walk in the realms of air
With their glowing faces and flaming hair,
And the shrill, chill winds o'er the prairies blow.
.....

Hanford Lennox Gordon
Today

This is To-day, a child in white and blue
Running to meet me out of Night who stilled
The ghost of Yester-eve; this is fair Morn
The mother of To-morrow. And these clouds
.....
Siegfried Sassoon

Siegfried Sassoon
Fine

Isn't it fine when the day is done,
And the petty battles are lost or won,
When the gold is made and the ink is dried,
To quit the struggle and turn aside
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
Phaedra

NOT that on me the Cyprian fury fell,
Last martyr of my love-ensanguined race;
Not that my children drop the averted face
When my name shames the silence; not that hell
.....
Edith Wharton

Edith Wharton
Fingal - Book Iii

ARGUMENT.

Cuthullin, pleased with the story of Carril, insists with that bard for more of his songs. He relates the actions of Fingal in Lochlin, and death of Agandecca, the beautiful sister of Swaran. He had scarce finished, when Calmar, the son of Matha, who had advised the first battle, came wounded from the field, and told them of Swaran's design to surprise the remains of the Irish army. He himself proposes to withstand singly the whole force of the enemy, in a narrow pass, till the Irish should make good their retreat. Cuthullin, touched with the gallant proposal of Calmar, resolves to accompany him and orders Carril to carry off the few that remained of the Irish. Morning comes, Calmar dies of his wounds; and the ships of the Caledonians appearing, Swaran gives over the pursuit of the Irish, and returns to oppose Fingal's landing. Cuthullin, ashamed, after his defeat, to appear before Fingal re tires to the cave of Tura. Fingal engages the enemy, puts them to flight: but the coming on of night makes the victory not decisive. The king, who had observed the gallant behavior of his grandson Oscar, gives him advice concerning his conduct in peace and war. He recommends to him to place the example of his fathers before his eyes, as the best model for his conduct; which introduces the episode concerning Fainasóllis, the daughter of the king of Craca, whom Fingal had taken under his protection in his youth. Fillan and Oscar are despatched to observe the motions of the enemy by night: Gaul, the son of Morni, desires the command of the army in the next battle, which Fingal promises to give him. Some general reflections of the poet close the third day.

.....

James Macpherson
The Bubble Chase

Twas morn, and, wending on its way,
Beside my path a stream was playing;
And down its banks, in humor gay,
A thoughtless boy was idly straying.
.....

Sam G. Goodrich
In The Factory

Oh, here in the shop the machines roar so wildly,
That oft, unaware that I am, or have been,
I sink and am lost in the terrible tumult;
And void is my soul… I am but a machine.
.....

Morris Rosenfeld
Waldemar's Chase

The following Ballad is merely a versification of one of the
many feats of Waldemar, the famed phantom hunter of the
North, an account of whom, and of Palnatoka and Groon the
Jutt, both spectres of a similar character, may be found in
.....
George Borrow

George Borrow
Stanza

Often rebuked, yet always back returning
To those first feelings that were born with me,
And leaving busy chase of wealth and learning
For idle dreams of things which cannot be:
.....

Emily Brontë
The Rival Bubbles

Two bubbles on a mountain stream,
Began their race one shining morn,
And lighted by the ruddy beam,
Went dancing down 'mid shrub and thorn.
.....

Sam G. Goodrich
Calthon And Colmal

This piece, as many more of Ossian's compositions, is addressed to one of the first Christian missionaries. The story of the poem is handed down by tradition thus:- In the country of the Britons, between the walls, two chiefs lived in the days of Fingal, Dunthalmo, Lord of Teutha, supposed to be the Tweed; and Rathmor, who dwelt at Clutha, well known to be the river Clyde. Rathmor was not more renowned for his generosity and hospitality, than Dunthalmo was infamous for his cruelty and ambition. Dunthalmo, through envy, or on account of some private feuds, which subsisted between the families, murdered Rathmor at a feast; but being afterward touched with remorse, he educated the two sons of Rathmor, Calthon and Colmar, in his own house. They growing up to man's estate, dropped some hints that they intended to revenge the death of their father, upon which Dunthalmo shut them up in two caves, on the banks of Teutha, intending to take them off privately. Colmal, the daughter of Dunthalmo, who was secretly in love with Calthon, helped him to make his escape from prison, and hied with him to Fingal, disguised in the habit of a young warrior, and implored his aid against Dunthalmo. Fingal sent Ossian with three hundred men to Colmar's relief. Dunthalmo, having previously murdered Colmar, came to a battle with Ossian, but he was killed by that hero, and his army totally defeated. Calthon married Colmal his deliverer; and Ossian returned to Morven.

Pleasant is the voice of thy song, thou lonely dweller of the rock! It comes on the sound of the stream, along the narrow vale. My soul awakes, O stranger, in the midst of my hall. I stretch my hand to the spear, as in the days of other years. I stretch my hand, but it is feeble: and the sigh of my bosom grows. Wilt thou not listen, son of the rock! to the song of Ossian? My soul is full of other times; the joy of my youth returns. Thus the sun appears in the west, after the steps of his brightness have moved behind a storm: the green hills lift their dewy heads: the blue streams rejoice in the vale. The aged hero comes forth on his stair; his gray hair glitters in the beam. Dost thou not behold, son of the rock! a shield in Ossian's hall? It is marked with the strokes of battle; and the brightness of its bosses has failed. That shield the great Dunthalmo bore, the chief of streamy Teutha. Dunthalmo bore it in battle before he fell by Ossian's spear. Listen, son of the rock! to the tale of other years.

.....

James Macpherson
Is My Team Ploughing

“Is my team ploughing,
That I was used to drive
And hear the harness jingle
When I was man alive?”
.....
A. E. Housman

A. E. Housman
Ione

I

Ah, yes, ‘t is sweet still to remember,
Though 'twere less painful to forget;
.....
Paul Laurence Dunbar

Paul Laurence Dunbar
Lake Superior

Father of Lakes! thy waters bend,
Beyond the eagle's utmost view,
When, throned in heaven, he sees thee send
Back to the sky its world of blue.
.....

Sam G. Goodrich
Mogg Megone - Part Iii.

Ah! weary Priest! - with pale hands pressed
On thy throbbing brow of pain,
Baffled in thy life-long quest,
Overworn with toiling vain,
.....
John Greenleaf Whittier

John Greenleaf Whittier