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Ulysses (1833) Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson(1809–92) It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel: I will drink […]

The Infinite Sky There’s a Peanuts cartoon in which Charlie Brown says, “I’ve watched this movie twenty times, and Shane never comes back.” I feel the same way about Prince Andrey Bolkonsky in War and Peace. Recently, I did a freelance project (a Cliff Notes type thing) for W&P, and so I read it for […]

Written from a hospital bed in 1875, after the 26-year-old Henley had had his leg amputated as a result of tuberculosis of the bone. Originally untitled, Arthur Quiller-Couch bestowed the name “Invictus” (“Unvanquished”) when he included it in The Oxford Book of English Verse. This was the poem Nelson Mandela kept on a scrap of […]

Say Not the Struggle Nought Availeth Arthur Hugh Clough  (1819-1861) Say not the struggle nought availeth,      The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth,      And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;      It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your […]

Locksley Hall Alfred, Lord Tennyson Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet ‘t is early morn: Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle-horn. ‘T is the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call, Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall; Locksley Hall, […]

Gerard Manley Hopkins The Half-way House Love I was shewn upon the mountain-side And bid to catch Him ere the drop of day. See, Love, I creep and Thou on wings dost ride: Love it is evening now and Thou away; Love, it grows darker here and Thou art above; Love, come down to me […]

Thomas Moore Quick Quick! we have but a second, Fill round the cup while you may; For time, the churl, hath beckon’d, And we must away, away! Grasp the pleasure that’s flying, For oh, not Orpheus’ strain Could keep sweet hours from dying, Or charm them to life again. Then, quick! we have but a […]

The Indian Serenade Percy Bysshe Shelley I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me—who knows how? To thy chamber window, Sweet! The wandering […]

My Little March Girl Paul Laurence Dunbar Wind-blown and rosy, my little March girl. Hint of the violet’s delicate bloom, Hint of the rose’s pervading perfume! How can the wind help from kissing her face,— Wrapping her round in his stormy embrace? But still serenely she laughs at his rout, She is the victor who […]

A Psalm of Life What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist Henry Wadsworth Longfellow TELL me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!— For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not […]

X Elizabeth Barrett Browning Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright, Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed: And love is fire. And when I say at need I love thee . . . mark! . . . I […]

The Light of Stars Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The night is come, but not too soon; And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heaven But the cold light of stars; And the first watch of the night is given To the red planet […]

Узник Александр Пушкин Сижу за решёткой в темнице сырой. Вскормлённый в неволе орел молодой, Мой грустный товарищ, махая крылом, Кровавую пищу клюёт под окном, Клюёт, и бросает, и смотрит в окно, Как будто со мною задумал одно. Зовёт меня взглядом и криком своим И вымолвить хочет: “Давай улетим! Мы вольные птицы; пора, брат, пора! Туда, […]

Sometimes with One I Love Walt Whitman 34. SOMETIMES with one I love, I fill myself with rage, for fear I effuse unreturn’d love; But now I think there is no unreturn’d love—the pay is certain, one way or another; (I loved a certain person ardently, and my love was not return’d; Yet out of […]

XL. Stephen Crane And you love me I love you. You are, then, cold coward. Aye; but, beloved, When I strive to come to you, Man’s opinions, a thousand thickets, My interwoven existence, My life, Caught in the stubble of the world Like a tender veil — This stays me. No strange move can I […]