Poems with rhymes of borne

Westward borne . . .
Onward go
Towards the morn

Then thought they: "The maid to the tomb is now borne;
We too from our dwellings ere long must be torn,

Ah, bear me with thee, lightly borne,
Dip forward under starry light,
And move me to my marriage-morn,

Life's loss may easily be borne,
Of love bereft man is forlorn.

August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.

What out-of-pocket charges must be borne,
Expenses met; nor as a draughty ghost
That's seen, some mornings, running down a lawn.

And few are the hurts to be borne,
But it calls for a leader of courage to cheer
The men in a battle forlorn.

That thence the Royal Actor borne
The tragic scaffold might adorn:

Gather the ranks, while shout and horn
Are o'er the distant mountains borne.

No more on prancing palfrey borne,
He caroll'd, light as lark at morn;

To bear a weight that cannot be borne,
Sisyphus, even you aren't that strong,
Although your heart cannot be torn

The fellow had discreetly sold the corn,
In straw, unthrashed, and off the money borne,

That nuptial night too briefly borne
To the oblivion of morn.

We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long we have borne
The heavy loved burden of dreams that are dead, let us rest,
Let us scatter their ashes away, for a while let us mourn;

From the tall elm a shower of leaves is borne
And their lost beauty riven beeches mourn.

On whose breast are thither borne
All deceived, and each deceiver,
Through the gates of night and morn;

And many a sheeny summer-morn,
Adown the Tigris I was borne,

A chaplet by no gentler forehead worn.
Grief deep as hell, wrath hardly to be borne,

The careless smile, like a gay banner borne,
The laugh of merriment, the lip of scorn,--

And though the ways of Zion mourn
When her strong ones are called away,
Who like thyself have calmly borne