The Lady of Shalott

by Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1842 Part I On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And through the field the road runs by To many-towered Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies…

Continue reading

The Inchcape Rock

by Robert Southey, 1802 No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, The ship was still as she could be, Her sails from heaven received no motion, Her keel was steady in the ocean. Without either sign or sound of their shock The waves flow’d over the Inchcape…

Continue reading

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

by Robert Frost, 1922 Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods…

Continue reading

The Cremation of Sam McGee

] by Robert W. Service, 1907 There are strange things done in the midnight sun ……….By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have their secret tales ……….That would make your blood run cold; The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, ……….But the queerest they ever did see…

Continue reading

The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God

by J. Milton Hayes, 1911 There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu, There’s a little marble cross below the town; There’s a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew, And the Yellow God forever gazes down. He was known as “Mad Carew” by the subs at…

Continue reading

My Country

by Dorothea Mackellar, 1904 The love of field and coppice, Of green and shaded lanes. Of ordered woods and gardens Is running in your veins, Strong love of grey-blue distance Brown streams and soft dim skies I know but cannot share it, My love is otherwise. I love a sunburnt…

Continue reading

The Man from Snowy River

by A. B. ‘Banjo’ Paterson, 1890 There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around That the colt from old Regret had got away, And had joined the wild bush horses – he was worth a thousand pound, So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.…

Continue reading

Flight of Fancy

If I had a magic carpet or a giant set of wings, I’d leave this world of parking lots and noise and motor cars, And I’d fly to far off places, and I’d see a million things, And I’d sleep beneath a canopy of fifty million stars. So play a…

Continue reading