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Poems

By Alfred Domett
Domett, Alfred (1811-1887)
  
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THE PEDESTRIAN.
  
A REVERIE.
  
WINTER.
  
ANACREONTIC.
  
THE STEAM-BOAT.
  
[As the April sun breaking]
  
SUNSET.
  
A STARRY NIGHT.
  
DEATH.
  
DESPAIR.
  
A FRAGMENT.
  
PLAIN TRUTHS.
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CHORUS IN THE ‘SEVEN AGAINST THEBES’ OF ÆSCHYLUS.
  
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Strophe 1.
  
Antistrophe 1.
  
Strophe 2.
  
Antistrophe 2.
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OPENING SCENES OF THE “CLOUDS” OF ARISTOPHANES.
 I. 
Scene first.
 II. 
SCENE II.
 III. 
SCENE III.
  
THE FIRST ODE OF HORACE,
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FRAGMENTS.
  
DEATH.
  
A WISH.
  
IN AN ALBUM.
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COMMONPLACES.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
  
FRAGMENT OF A CHORUS IN THE AJAX OF SOPHOCLES.
  
TEARS.
  
ODE TO THE MATHEMATICS.
  
[Oft when I read the lays]
  
STANZAS.
  
FRAGMENT.
  
TO A LADY.
  
TO ------.
  
WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.
  
WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM.
  
LINES.
  
ON THE BIRTH OF A NEAR RELATION.
  
GREEK SONG.
  
[Whence is it mountains, forests, fields, and floods]
  
“GOOD BYE.”
  
['Twas in the twilight once—and Sorrow's shadow lay]
  
“LONG AGO,”
  
ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE IN AN ALBUM.
  
ANOTHER.
  
TO AGNES.
  
STANZAS.
  
FLOWERS.
  
A SIMILE.
  
THE BROKEN TRYST.
  
A SEA SIDE CALM.
  
THE CARD CASE'S PETITION.
  
THE “LAND O' THE LEAL.”
  
“GOOD-BYE!”
  
TO IONE.
  
TO AGNES.
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THE LONE STAR OF LOVE.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
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LOVE AND CIRCUMSTANCE.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
  
ADRIAN'S DYING ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL.
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WELLINGTON.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
  
ADRIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL WHEN DYING.
  
SISERA.
  
THE VOICE OF THE PESTILENCE.
  
NIGHT.
  
HORACE TO LAMIAS.
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[subsection]
  
To “------,”
  
ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF FRISK.
  
HORACE TO HIS PAGE.
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THE STARS.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
  
MIDNIGHT.
  
[This brave bright Earth with Mind o'erflows—]
  
A SUMMER THOUGHT.
  
TO BIANCA.
  
SONG.
  
THE NIGHTINGALE.
  
LOVE THE POET.
  
REMORSE.
  
SONG.
  
[My own—my absent one! thou who art still]
  
PAUL PREACHING AT ATHENS
  
L'Envoy.

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II.

And when some sunny Isle of Bliss
Along the sea of Life is spied—
And straight our bark puts off for this,
And Hope her sails unfurleth wide—
And nearer still, and still more near
That bright Isle woos our mad career—
Then woe for what full soon is seen!
A thousand breakers rise between,
And with long-rolling burst defend,
The pleasant Isle to which we tend!
They boil and hiss, and raise on high
Their surf-white heads complainingly,
And press around, with plaintive cry,
And like a wild bird's famished brood
Importunate for wanted food!
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