Invictus

by William Ernest Henley   1875

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods there be
For my unconquerable soul. More » • (634 views)

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The Destruction of Sennacherib

by Lord Byron   1815

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. More » • (1932 views)

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Ozymandias

by Percy Bysshe Shelley   1818

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, More » • (786 views)

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A Poison Tree

by William Blake   1794

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow. More » • (564 views)

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Sticks and Stones: The Athens/Chicago School of Debate

by Papa Possum  11/4/2013

In Ancient Greece, Sophist elites
taught how to cast a spell
to make more great the lesser cause,
and what’s true hard to tell.
With sly wordcraft, with sleight of phrase, More » • (679 views)

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To Build a Fire

by Jack London   1908

Day had broken cold and gray, exceedingly cold and gray, when the man turned aside from the main Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank, where a dim and little traveled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland. More » • (841 views)

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High Flight by John Gillespie Magee

John Gillespie Magee, Junior (June 9, 1922 – December 11, 1941) was an Anglo-American aviator and poet who died as a result of a mid-air collision over Lincolnshire during World War II. He was serving in the Royal Canadian Air Force, which he joined before the United States officially entered the war. More » • (535 views)

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If

by Rudyard Kipling   1895

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too; More » • (1360 views)

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Autumn

by Gibblet  10/27/12

autumn

bleeding red from summer’s side More » • (917 views)

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Rappaccini’s Daughter

by Nathaniel Hawthorne  1844

[A] young man, named Giovanni Guasconti, came, very long ago, from the more southern region of Italy, to pursue his studies at the University of Padua. Giovanni, who had but a scanty supply of gold ducats in his pocket, took lodgings in a high and gloomy chamber of an old edifice, which looked not unworthy to have been the palace of a Paduan noble, and which, in fact, exhibited over its entrance the armorial bearings of a family long since extinct. More » • (2573 views)

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Sunday at Home

by Nathaniel Hawthorne  1837

EVERY SABBATH morning, in the summer time, I thrust back the curtain, to watch the sunrise stealing down a steeple, which stands opposite my chamber window. First, the weathercock begins to flash; then, a fainter lustre gives the spire an airy aspect; next it encroaches on the tower, and causes the index of the dial to glisten like gold, as it points to the gilded figure of the hour. Now, the loftiest window gleams, and now the lower. The carved frame-work of the portal is marked strongly out. More » • (793 views)

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The Gray Champion

by Nathaniel Hawthorne  1835, 1837

THERE WAS ONCE a time, when New-England groaned under the actual pressure of heavier wrongs, than those threatened ones which brought on the Revolution. James II, the bigoted successor of Charles the Voluptuous, had annulled tile charters of all the colonies, and sent a harsh and unprincipled soldier to take away our liberties and endanger our religion. More » • (703 views)

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