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    Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)


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      The World’s Greatest Poems

      The Delphi Poetry Anthology

      Contents

      The World’s Greatest Poems

      CONTENTS OF THE COLLECTION

      LIST OF POEMS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

      LIST OF POETS IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

      © Delphi Classics 2015

      Version 2

      The World’s Greatest Poems

      AN ANTHOLOGY

      By Delphi Classics, 2015

      NOTE

      When reading poetry on an eReader, it is advisable to use a small font size and landscape mode, which will allow the lines of poetry to display correctly.

      The World’s Greatest Poems

      CONTENTS OF THE COLLECTION

      The Ancients

      Homer

      Sappho

      Virgil

      Horace

      Ovid

      Medieval Poetry

      Dante Alighieri

      Geoffrey Chaucer

      John Gower

      Traditional Medieval Ballads

      Renaissance Poets

      Sir Thomas Wyatt

      Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

      George Gascoigne

      Nicholas Breton

      Anthony Munday

      Richard Edwardes

      Sir Walter Raleigh

      Sir Edward Dyer

      John Lyly

      Sir Philip Sidney

      Thomas Lodge

      George Peele

      Robert Southwell

      Samuel Daniel

      Michael Drayton

      Henry Constable

      Edmund Spenser

      William Habington

      Christopher Marlowe

      Richard Rowlands

      Thomas Nashe

      William Shakespeare: Play Extracts

      William Shakespeare: Poems

      Robert Greene

      Richard Barnfield

      Thomas Campion

      Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex

      Sir Henry Wotton

      Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford

      Ben Jonson

      John Donne

      Joshua Sylvester

      William Alexander, Earl of Stirling

      Richard Corbet

      Thomas Heywood

      Thomas Dekker

      Francis Beaumont

      John Fletcher

      John Webster

      William Drummond

      George Wither

      William Browne

      Robert Herrick

      Francis Quarles

      George Herbert

      John Milton

      Henry Vaughan

      Francis Bacon Viscount St Alban

      James Shirley

      Thomas Carew

      Sir John Suckling

      Sir William D’Avenant

      Richard Lovelace

      Edmund Waller

      William Cartwright

      James Graham, Marquis of Montrose

      Richard Crashaw

      Thomas Jordan

      Abraham Cowley

      Alexander Brome

      Andrew Marvell

      Restoration and Eighteenth Century Poets

      Earl of Rochester

      Sir Charles Sedley

      John Dryden

      Matthew Prior

      Isaac Watts

      Lady Grisel Baillie

      Joseph Addison

      Allan Ramsay

      John Gay

      Henry Carey

      Alexander Pope

      Ambrose Philips

      Colley Cibber

      James Thomson

      Thomas Gray

      George Bubb Dodington, Lord Melcombe

      William Collins

      George Sewell

      Alison Rutherford Cockburn

      Jane Elliot

      Christopher Smart

      John Logan

      Charlotte Smith

      Henry Fielding

      Charles Dibdin

      Samuel Johnson

      Oliver Goldsmith

      Robert Graham of Gartmore

      Adam Austin

      William Cowper

      Richard Brinsley Sheridan

      Anna Laetitia Barbauld

      Isobel Pagan

      Lady Anne Lindsay

      Thomas Chatterton

      Robert Burns

      Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne

      Alexander Ross

      John Skinner

      Michael Bruce

      George Halket

      William Hamilton of Bangour

      Hector MacNeil

      Sir William Jones

      Susanna Blamire

      Anne Hunter

      John Dunlop

      Samuel Rogers

      William Blake

      Early Nineteenth Century Poets

      John Collins

      Robert Tannahill

      William Wordsworth

      William Lisle Bowles

      Samuel Taylor Coleridge

      Robert Southey

      Charles Lamb

      Sir Walter Scott

      James Hogg

      Robert Surtees

      Thomas Campbell

      J Campbell

      Allan Cunningham

      George Gordon, Lord Byron

      Thomas Moore

      Charles Wolfe

      Percy Bysshe Shelley

      James Henry Leigh Hunt

      John Keats

      Victorian Era Poets

      Walter Savage Landor

      Thomas Hood

      Sir Aubrey De Vere

      Hartley Coleridge

      Joseph Blanco White

      George Darley

      Thomas Babington

      Macaulay, Lord Macaulay

      Sir William Edmondstoune Aytoun

      Hugh Miller

      Helen Selina, Lady Dufferin

      Charles Tennyson Turner

      Sir Samuel Ferguson

      Elizabeth Barrett Browning

      Edward Fitzgerald

      Alfred, Lord Tennyson

      Richard Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton

      William Makepeace Thackeray

      Charles Kingsley

      J Wilson

      Edward Lear

      Robert Browning

      Emily Bronte

      Robert Stephen Hawker

      Coventry Patmore

      William (Johnson) Cory

      Sydney Dobell

      William Allingham

      George MacDonald

      Emily Dickinson

      Edward, Earl of Lytton

      Arthur Hugh Clough

      Matthew Arnold

      George Meredith

      Alexander Smith

      Charles Dickens

      Thomas Edward Brown

      James Thomson (B V)

      Dante Gabriel Rossetti

      Christina Georgina Rossetti

      William Morris

      John Boyle O’Reilly

      Arthur William Edgar O’Shaughnessy

      Robert Williams Buchanan

      Algernon Charles Swinburne

      William Ernest Henley

      Robert Louis Stevenson

      William Cullen Bryant

      Edgar Allan Poe

      Ralph Waldo Emerson

      Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

      John Greenleaf Whittier

      Oliver Wendell Holmes

      James Russell Lowell

      Sidney Lanier

      Bret Harte

      Modern Poets

      Thomas Hardy

      Walt Whitman

      D. H. Lawrence

      W. B. Yeats

      James Joyce

      Wilfred Owen

      Edwin Arlin
    gton Robinson

      The Ancients

      Homer

      The Iliad Extracts

      Opening Invocation of the Muse: Book I

      Translated by Alexander Pope

      ACHILLES’ wrath, to Greece the direful spring

      Of woes unnumber’d, heav’nly Goddess, sing!

      That wrath which hurl’d to Pluto’s gloomy reign

      The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain:

      Whose limbs, unburied on the naked shore, 5

      Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore:

      Since great Achilles and Atrides strove,

      Such was the Sov’reign doom, and such the will of Jove!

      Declare, O Muse! in what ill-fated hour

      Sprung the fierce strife, from what offended power? 10

      Latona’s son a dire contagion spread,

      And heap’d the camp with mountains of the dead;

      The King of Men his rev’rend priest defied,

      And for the King’s offence, the people died.

      For Chryses sought with costly gifts to gain 15

      His captive daughter from the victor’s chain.

      Suppliant the venerable father stands;

      Apollo’s awful ensigns grace his hands:

      By these he begs: and, lowly bending down,

      Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown. 20

      He sued to all, but chief implored for grace

      The brother-kings of Atreus’ royal race:

      ‘Ye Kings and Warriors! may your vows be crown’d,

      And Troy’s proud walls lie level with the ground;

      May Jove restore you, when your toils are o’er, 25

      Safe to the pleasures of your native shore.

      But oh! relieve a wretched parent’s pain,

      And give Chryseïs to these arms again;

      If mercy fail, yet let my presents move,

      And dread avenging Phœbus, son of Jove.’ 30

      The Greeks in shouts their joint assent declare,

      The Priest to rev’rence and release the Fair.

      Not so Atrides: he, with kingly pride,

      Repuls’d the sacred sire, and thus replied:

      ‘Hence on thy life, and fly these hostile plains, 35

      Nor ask, presumptuous, what the King detains:

      Hence, with thy laurel crown, and golden rod,

      Nor trust too far those ensigns of thy God.

      Mine is thy daughter, Priest, and shall remain;

      And prayers, and tears, and bribes, shall plead in vain; 40

      Till time shall rifle ev’ry youthful grace,

      And age dismiss her from my cold embrace,

      In daily labours of the loom employ’d,

      Or doom’d to deck the bed she once enjoy’d.

      Hence then! to Argos shall the maid retire, 45

      Far from her native soil, and weeping sire.’

      The trembling priest along the shore return’d,

      And in the anguish of a father mourn’d.

      Disconsolate, not daring to complain,

      Silent he wander’d by the sounding main: 50

      Till, safe at distance, to his God he prays,

      The God who darts around the world his rays.

      ‘O Smintheus! sprung from fair Latona’s line,

      Thou guardian power of Cilla the divine,

      Thou source of light! whom Tenedos adores, 55

      And whose bright presence gilds thy Chrysa’s shores;

      If e’er with wreaths I hung thy sacred fane,

      Or fed the flames with fat of oxen slain,

      God of the silver bow! thy shafts employ,

      Avenge thy servant, and the Greeks destroy.’ 60

      List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

      List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

      Wind Metaphor Speech: Book VI

      Translated by William Cowper

      To whom the illustrious Lycian Chief replied.

      Why asks brave Diomede of my descent?

      For, as the leaves, such is the race of man.

      The wind shakes down the leaves, the budding grove

      Soon teems with others, and in spring they grow.

      So pass mankind. One generation meets

      Its destined period, and a new succeeds.

      But since thou seem’st desirous to be taught

      My pedigree, whereof no few have heard,

      Know that in Argos, in the very lap

      Of Argos, for her steed-grazed meadows famed,

      Stands Ephyra; there Sisyphus abode,

      Shrewdest of human kind; Sisyphus, named

      Æolides. Himself a son begat,

      Glaucus, and he Bellerophon, to whom

      The Gods both manly force and beauty gave.

      Him Prœtus (for in Argos at that time

      Prœtus was sovereign, to whose sceptre Jove

      Had subjected the land) plotting his death,

      Contrived to banish from his native home.

      For fair Anteia, wife of Prœtus, mad

      Through love of young Bellerophon, him oft

      In secret to illicit joys enticed;

      But she prevail’d not o’er the virtuous mind

      Discrete of whom she wooed; therefore a lie

      Framing, she royal Prœtus thus bespake.

      List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

      List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

      Hector’s Farewell of His Wife Andromache and Son: Book VI

      Translated by Alexander Pope

      He said, and pass’d with sad presaging heart

      To seek his spouse, his soul’s far dearer part;

      At home he sought her, but he sought in vain:

      She, with one maid of all her menial train, 465

      Had thence retired; and, with her second joy,

      The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy,

      Pensive she stood on Ilion’s tow’ry height,

      Beheld the war, and sicken’d at the sight;

      There her sad eyes in vain her lord explore, 470

      Or weep the wounds her bleeding country bore.

      But he who found not whom his soul desired,

      Whose virtue charm’d him as her beauty fired,

      Stood in the gates, and asked what way she bent

      Her parting steps? If to the fane she went, 475

      Where late the mourning matrons made resort;

      Or sought her sisters in the Trojan court?

      ‘Not to the court’ (replied th’ attendant train),

      ‘Nor, mixed with matrons, to Minerva’s fane:

      To Ilion’s steepy tower she bent her way, 480

      To mark the fortunes of the doubtful day.

      Troy fled, she heard, before the Grecian sword:

      She heard, and trembled for her distant lord;

      Distracted with surprise, she seemed to fly,

      Fear on her cheek, and sorrow in her eye. 485

      The nurse attended with her infant boy,

      The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy.’

      Hector, this heard, return’d without delay;

      Swift thro’ the town he trod his former way,

      Thro’ streets of palaces and walks of state; 490

      And met the mourner at the Scæan gate.

      With haste to meet him sprung the joyful fair,

      His blameless wife, Eëtion’s wealthy heir

      (Cicilian Thebé great Eëtion sway’d,

      And Hippoplacus’ wide-extended shade): 495

      The nurse stood near, in whose embraces press’d,

      His only hope hung smiling at her breast,

      Whom each soft charm and early grace adorn,

      Fair as the new-born that gilds the morn.

      To this lov’d infant Hector gave the name 500

      Scamandrius, from Scamander’s honour’d stream:

      Astyanax the Trojans call’d the boy,

      From his great father, the defence of Troy.

      Silent the warrior smil’d, and, pleas’d, resign’d

      To tender passions all his mighty m
    ind: 505

      His beauteous Princess cast a mournful look,

      Hung on his hand, and then dejected spoke;

      Her bosom labour’d with a boding sigh,

      And the big tear stood trembling in her eye.

      ‘Too daring Prince! ah, whither dost thou run? 510

      Ah too forgetful of thy wife and son!

      And think’st thou not how wretched we shall be,

      A widow I, a helpless orphan he!

      For sure such courage length of life denies,

      And thou must fall, thy virtue’s sacrifice. 515

      Greece in her single heroes strove in vain;

      Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain!

      Oh grant me, Gods! ere Hector meets his doom,

      All I can ask of Heav’n, an early tomb!

      So shall my days in one sad tenor run, 520

      And end with sorrows as they first begun.

      No parent now remains, my griefs to share,

      No father’s aid, no mother’s tender care.

      The fierce Achilles wrapt our walls in fire,

      Laid Thebé waste, and slew my warlike sire! 525

      His fate compassion in the victor bred;

      Stern as he was, he yet revered the dead,

      His radiant arms preserv’d from hostile spoil,

      And laid him decent on the funeral pile;

      Then raised a mountain where his bones were burn’d; 530

      The mountain nymphs the rural tomb adorn’d;

      Jove’s sylvan daughters bade their elms bestow

      A barren shade, and in his honour grow.

      ‘By the same arm my sev’n brave brothers fell;

      In one sad day beheld the gates of Hell; 535

      While the fat herds and snowy flocks they fed,

      Amid their fields the hapless heroes bled!

      My mother lived to bear the victor’s bands,

      The Queen of Hippoplacia’s sylvan lands:

      Redeem’d too late, she scarce beheld again 540

      Her pleasing empire and her native plain,

      When, ah! oppress’d by life-consuming woe,

      She fell a victim to Diana’s bow.

      ‘Yet while my Hector still survives, I see

      My father, mother, brethren, all, in thee. 545

      Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all,

      Once more will perish if my Hector fall.

      Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger share;

      Oh prove a husband’s and a father’s care!

      That quarter most the skilful Greeks annoy, 550

     

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