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You are now in the place where we share poems of well-known poets, often from the list “Best Poems” and “Best Poets”. Due to copyright we only present the poems of those poets who passed away some time ago and therefore, you will not find poems of contemporary poets here. We invite you to familiarise yourself with the poems about Ballad available here and we hope you will enjoy reading. The poems about Ballad found here you can easily add to the free ecards from our site, and then send ecards to friends. Best Ballad poems for you.

A Ballad Of The French Fleet. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)



A fleet with flags arrayed
Sailed from the port of Brest,
And the Admiral's ship displayed
The signal: "Steer southwest."
For this Admiral D'Anville
Had sworn by cross and crown
To ravage with fire and steel
Our helpless Boston Town.

There were rumors in the street,
In the houses there was fear
Of the coming of the fleet,
And the danger hovering near.
And while from mouth to mouth
Spread the tidings of dismay,
I stood in the Old South,
Saying humbly: "Let us pray! ...

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Poems by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A Ballad Of The Heather



We spent a day together,
One day of all our lives,
Of love in cloudless weather--
Such only youth contrives--
One day in the red heather,
Alone with our two lives.

The tall grey rocks were near us,
The birch--trees lent us shade,
The moorfowl did not fear us,
Nor was the fox afraid.
No other life was near us
Of matron, man or maid.

The glory of the morning
Had made our pulses beat,
The dangers we were scorning,...

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Poems by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

A Ballad Of The Trees And The Master



Into the woods my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent.
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little gray leaves were kind to Him:
The thorn-tree had a mind to Him
When into the woods He came.

Out of the woods my Master went,
And He was well content.
Out of the woods my Master came,
Content with death and shame.
When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last:
'Twas on a tree they slew Him — last
When out of the woods He came.

Poems by Sidney Lanier

A Ballad Of The Two Knights



Two knights rode forth at early dawn
A-seeking maids to wed,
Said one, "My lady must be fair,
With gold hair on her head."

Then spake the other knight-at-arms:
"I care not for her face,
But she I love must be a dove
For purity and grace."

And each knight blew upon his horn
And went his separate way,
And each knight found a lady-love
Before the fall of day....

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Poems by Sara Teasdale

A Ballad Sent to King Richard



Sometime this world was so steadfast and stable,
That man's word was held obligation;
And now it is so false and deceivable,
That word and work, as in conclusion,
Be nothing one; for turned up so down
Is all this world, through meed and willfulness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness.

What makes this world to be so variable,
But lust that folk have in dissension?
For now-a-days a man is held unable
But if he can, by some collusion,
Do his neighbour wrong or oppression.
What causeth this but wilful wretchedness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness?...

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Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer

A Ballad, Shewing How An Old Woman Rode Double, And Who Rode Before Her



The Raven croak'd as she sate at her meal,
And the Old Woman knew what he said,
And she grew pale at the Raven's tale,
And sicken'd and went to her bed.

Now fetch me my children, and fetch them with speed,
The Old Woman of Berkeley said,
The monk my son, and my daughter the nun
Bid them hasten or I shall be dead.

The monk her son, and her daughter the nun,
Their way to Berkeley went,
And they have brought with pious thought
The holy sacrament....

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Poems by Robert Southey

A Ballade of Suicide



The gallows in my garden, people say,
Is new and neat and adequately tall;
I tie the noose on in a knowing way
As one that knots his necktie for a ball;
But just as all the neighbours—on the wall—
Are drawing a long breath to shout "Hurray!"
The strangest whim has seized me. . . . After all
I think I will not hang myself to-day.

To-morrow is the time I get my pay—
My uncle's sword is hanging in the hall—
I see a little cloud all pink and grey—
Perhaps the rector's mother will not call—
I fancy that I heard from Mr. Gall
That mushrooms could be cooked another way—
I never read the works of Juvenal—
I think I will not hang myself to-day....

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Poems by Gilbert Keith Chesterton

A Border Ballad



OH, I haven't got long to live, for we all
Die soon, e'en those who live longest;
And the poorest and weakest are taking their chance
Along with the richest and strongest.
So it's heigho for a glass and a song,
And a bright eye over the table,
And a dog for the hunt when the game is flush.
And the pick of a gentleman's stable.
There is Dimmock o' Dune, he was here yesternight,
But he's rotting to-day on Glen Arragh;
'Twas the hand o' MacPherson that gave him the blow,
And the vultures shall feast on his marrow.
But it's heigho for a brave old song
And a glass while we are able;
Here's a health to death and another cup
To the bright eye over the table....

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Poems by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Tags from Poems Ballad


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