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النشر الإلكتروني

POETRY

"Many people in our day, readily merchants and often lawyers, say and repeat, 'Poetry is gone.' It is almost as if they said, ‘There are no more roses; spring has breathed its last; the sun has lost the habit of rising; roam about all the fields of the earth, you will not find a butterfly; there is no more light in the moon, and the nightingale sings no more; the lion no longer roars; the eagle no longer soars; the Alps and the Pyrenees are gone; there are no more lovely girls and handsome young men; no one thinks any more of the graves; the mother no longer loves her child; heaven is quenched; the human heart is dead.'"-Victor Hugo.

Kubla Khan
The Revenge

Pompey's Ghost

Absence.

Burial of Lincoln

It Never Comes Again

The Sword Song .
Departure of the Swallows
The Death of Samson .

The Lady's Dream
Popping the Question

The Skeleton in Armour

Robin Hood

The Iceberg
Lenore

The Fool's Prayer
Mazeppa's Ride
The Erl-King

The Fancy Concert

A Curse for a Nation
Rizpah

Hamlet at the Boston

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William M. Thackeray

Percy Bysshe Shelley.

Elegy in a Country Church-Yard Thomas Gray.

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Geo. Gordon, Lord Byron 590 William Allingham .

John Hay

Nora Perry

Thomas Bailey Aldrich. M. E. W. Sherwood

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An Ode to the Assertors of Liberty Percy Bysshe Shelley. 606

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KUBLA KHAN: OR, A VISION IN A DREAM. By SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.

N Xanadu did Kubla Khan

IN

A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted

As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;

Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,

A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw:

It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.

Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win me That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air,

That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

SON.

AT

T Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, And a pinnace, like a flutter'd bird, came flying from far away:

"Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted fiftythree!''

Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: "'Fore God I am

no coward;

But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of

gear,

And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow

quick.

We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty

three?"

Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are no coward;

You fly them for a moment to fight with them again. But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore.

I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard,

To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain." So Lord Howard past away with five ships of war that day,

Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer

heaven;

But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the

land

Very carefully and slow,

Men of Bideford in Devon,

And we laid them on the ballast down below;

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