Samuel Johnson Pride Poems

  • 1.
    LONG-EXPECTED one and twenty
    Ling'ring year at last has flown,
    Pomp and pleasure, pride and plenty
    Great Sir John, are all your own.
    ...
  • 2.
    The rites derived from ancient days
    With thoughtless reverence we praise,
    The rites that taught us to combine
    The joys of music and of wine,
    ...
  • 3.
    '--Quis ineptae
    Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?' ~ Juv.

    Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel,
    ...
  • 4.
    Thou who survey'st these walls with curious eye,
    Pause at this tomb where Hanmer's ashes lie;
    His various worth through varied life attend,
    And learn his virtues while thou mourn'st his end.
    ...
  • 5.
    Friendship! peculiar boon of Heaven,
    The noble mind's delight and pride,
    To men and angels only given,
    To all the lower world denied.
    ...
  • 6.
    LONG-EXPECTED one and twenty
    Ling'ring year at last has flown,
    Pomp and pleasure, pride and plenty
    Great Sir John, are all your own.
    ...
  • 7.
    Stern Winter now, by Spring repress'd
    Forbears the long-continued strife;
    And Nature, on her naked breast,
    Delights to catch the gales of life.
    ...
  • 8.
    Long-expected one-and-twenty,
    Ling'ring year, at length is flown:
    Pride and pleasure, pomp and plenty,
    Great . . . . . . ., are now your own.
    ...
  • 9.
    Condemn'd to Hope's delusive mine,
    As on we toil from day to day,
    By sudden blasts or slow decline
    Our social comforts drop away.
    ...
Total 9 Pride Poems by Samuel Johnson

Top 10 most used topics by Samuel Johnson

I Love You 18 Love 18 Nature 15 Life 14 Heart 14 Friend 12 Long 12 Light 11 Power 11 Pride 9

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Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
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