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by D.H. Lawrence

Eagle in New Mexico by D.H. Lawrence Towards the sun, towards the south-west A scorched breast. A scorched breast, breasting the sun like an answer,

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Lawrence/eagle_in_new_mexico.htm

by George Herbert

Easter-Wings by George Herbert Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store, Though foolishly he lost the same, Decaying more and more, Till he becam

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Herbert/Easter-wings.htm

by Christina Rossetti

Echo by Christina Rossetti Come to me in the silence of the night ; Come in the speaking silence of a dream ; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Rossetti C/echo.htm

by Alexander Pope

Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady by Alexander Pope What beckoning ghost, along the moonlight shade Invites my step, and points to yonder g

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Pope/elegy_to_the_memory_of_an_unfortunate_lady.htm

by Thomas Gray

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray The Curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plough

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Gray/elegy_written_in_a_country_churc.htm

by Robert Browning

Epilogue to Asolando by Robert Browning At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time, When you set your fancies free, Will they pass to where

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Browning/Epilogue to Asolando.htm

by Sir Walter Ralegh

Epitaph by Sir Walter Ralegh Even such is Time, which takes in trust Our youth, our joys, and all we have, And pays us but with age and dust; Who in

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Ralegh/epitaph.htm

by William Cowper

Epitaph on a Hare(1783) by William Cowper Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Cowper/epitaph on a hare.htm

by Wilfred Owen

Exposure by Wilfred Owen Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us . . . Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent . .

http://www.thesitemapper.com/classical_poets/Owen/exposure.htm