George Borrow

(1803-1881 / England)

George Borrow Poems

1. Ode To A Mountain 10/13/2010
2. The Deceived Merman (From The Old Danish) 10/13/2010
3. National Song 10/13/2010
4. The Hail-Storm (From The Norse) 10/13/2010
5. Aager And Eliza (From The Old Danish) 10/13/2010
6. Bear Song (From The Danish Of Evald) 10/13/2010
7. Birds Of Passage (From The Swedish) 10/13/2010
8. Elvir Hill (From The Old Danish) 10/13/2010
9. Elvir-Shades 10/13/2010
10. Fridleif And Helga 10/13/2010
11. From Allan Cunningham 10/13/2010
12. Glee 10/13/2010
13. Lines To Six-Foot Three 10/13/2010
14. Madness 10/13/2010
15. May Asda 10/13/2010
16. Miscellanies 10/13/2010
17. Runic Verses 10/13/2010
18. Sadness 10/13/2010
19. Saint Oluf (From The Old Danish) 10/13/2010
20. Scenes 10/13/2010
21. Sir John 10/13/2010
22. Sir Middel 10/13/2010
23. Sudden Chorus 10/13/2010
24. The Broken Harp 10/13/2010
25. The Death-Raven (From The Danish Of Oehlenslaeger) 10/13/2010
26. The Heddybee Spectre 10/13/2010
27. The Heroes Of Dovrefeld (From The Old Danish) 10/13/2010
28. The Old Oak 10/13/2010
29. The Suicide’s Grave (From The German) 10/13/2010
30. The Tournament (From The Old Danish) 10/13/2010
31. The Violet-Gatherer 10/13/2010
32. Thoughts On Death 10/13/2010
33. Waldemar’s Chase 10/13/2010
34. Youthful Maidens 10/13/2010
35. Ode (From The Gaelic) 10/13/2010
36. The Elder-Witch 10/13/2010
Best Poem of George Borrow

Ode To A Mountain

How lovely art thou in thy tresses of foam,
And yet the warm blood in my bosom grows chill,
When yelling thou rollest thee down from thy home,
’Mid the boom of the echoing forest and hill.

The pine-trees are shaken—they yield to thy shocks,
And spread their vast ruin wide over the ground,
The rocks fly before thee—thou seizest the rocks,
And whirl’st them like pebbles contemptuously round.

The sun-beams have cloth’d thee in glorious dyes,
They streak with the tints of the heavenly bow
Those hovering columns of vapour that rise
Forth from the bubbling ...

Read the full of Ode To A Mountain

From Allan Cunningham

Sing, sing, my friend; breathe life again
Through Norway’s song and Denmark’s strain:
On flowing Thames and Forth, in flood,
Pour Haco’s war-song, fierce and rude.
O’er England’s strength, through Scotland’s cold,
His warrior minstrels marched of old—
Called on the wolf and bird of prey
To feast on Ireland’s shore and bay;
And France, thy forward knights and bold,

[Hata Bildir]