Topic: Life


I weigh not fortune’s frown or smile; I joy not much in earthly joys; I seek not state, I reck not style; I am not fond of fancy’s toys: I rest so pleased with what I have, I wish no more, no more I crave. I quake not at the thunder’s...

By Joshua Sylvester
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30 August

This Life

This Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children’s breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might Like to an eye of gold to be fixed there, And firm...

By William Drummond of Hawthornden
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25 August

The Rose-Bush

A child sleeps under a rose-bush fair, The buds swell out in the soft May air; Sweetly it rests, and on dream-wings flies To play with the angels in Paradise. And the years glide by. A Maiden stands by the rose-bush fair, The dewy blossoms perfume the air; She presses her hand...

By Johann Ludwig Uhland
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24 August

The Approach of Age – Sonnet XII

When I do count the clock that tells the time, And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; When I behold the violet past prime, And sable curls all silvered o’er with white; When lofty trees I see barren of leaves, Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And...

By William Shakespeare
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22 August

Three Days

So much to do: so little done! Ah! yesternight I saw the sun Sink beamless down the vaulted gray,— The ghastly ghost of YESTERDAY. So little done: so much to do! Each morning breaks on conflicts new; But eager, brave, I ’ll...

By James Roberts Gilmore
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21 August


A hut, and a tree, And a hill for me, And a piece of a weedy meadow. I’ll ask no thing, Of God or king, But to clear away his shadow. Max Eastman...

By Max Eastman
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20 August

The Modern Poet

A Song of Derivations I come from nothing; but from where Come the undying thoughts I bear? Down, through long links of death and birth, From the past poets of the earth. My immortality is there. I am like the blossom of an hour. But long, long vanished sun and shower Awoke my...

By Alice Meynell
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16 August

Undeveloped Lives

Not every thought can find its words, Not all within is known; For minds and hearts have many chords That never yield their tone. Tastes, instincts, feelings, passions, powers, Sleep there, unfelt, unseen; And other lives lie hid in ours— The lives that might have been; Affections whose transforming force Could mould the heart...

By William Edward Hartpole Lecky
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13 August