Cool poems
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Autumn Feelings.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Up the trellis'd vine on high!
May ye swell, twin-berries tender,
Juicier far,--and with more splendour
Sonnet XXXIII. To The Naiad Of The Arun
© Charlotte Turner Smith
GO, rural Naiad! wind thy stream along
Through woods and wilds: then seek the ocean caves
Where sea-nymphs meet their coral rocks among,
To boast the various honours of their waves!
The Glimpse
© George Herbert
Whither away, Delight?
Thou cam'st but now; wilt thou so soon depart,
And give me up to night?
For many weeks of lingring pain and smart
But one half hour of comfort for my heart?
Wedding Song.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
His grandson of whom we are telling.
The Count as Crusader had blazon'd his fame,
Through many a triumph exalted his name,
And when on his steed to his dwelling he came,
Ganymede.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
How, in the light of morning,
Round me thou glowest,
Spring, thou beloved one!
With thousand-varying loving bliss
The Silent Muse
© Alfred Austin
``Why have you silent been so long?''
In tones of mild rebuke you ask.
Know you not, kindly friend, that Song
Is the ``Gay Science,'' not a task?
Noonday By The Seaside
© Frances Anne Kemble
The sea has left the strand—
In their deep sapphire cup
The waves lie gathered up,
Off the hard-ribbed sand.
When A Feller's Itching To Be Spanked
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
W'EN us fellers stomp around, makin' lots o' noise,
Gramma says, "There's certain times comes to little boys
The Beautiful Night.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Now I leave this cottage lowly,Where my love hath made her home,
And with silent footstep slowlyThrough the darksome forest roam,
Luna breaks through oaks and bushes,Zephyr hastes her steps to meet,
And the waving birch-tree blushes,Scattering round her incense sweet.Grateful are the cooling breezesOf this beauteous summer night,
The Bride Of Corinth.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[First published in Schiller's Horen, in connection
with a
friendly contest in the art of ballad-writing between the two
great poets, to which many of their finest works are owing.]
The Wanderer.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Published in the Gottingen Musen Almanach,
having been written "to express his feelings and caprices" after
his separation from Frederica.]
The Bridegroom.*
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(Not in the English sense of the word, but the German, where it
has the meaning of betrothed.)I SLEPT,--'twas midnight,--in my bosom woke,As though 'twere day, my love-o'erflowing heart;
To me it seemed like night, when day first broke;What is't to me, whate'er it may impart?She was away; the world's unceasing strifeFor her alone I suffer'd through the heat
Of sultry day; oh, what refreshing lifeAt cooling eve!--my guerdon was complete.The sun now set, and wand'ring hand in hand,His last and blissful look we greeted then;
Peter Quince At The Clavier
© Wallace Stevens
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,
On The Marriage Of The Lady Gwendolin Talbot With The Eldest Son Of Prince Borghese
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Lady! to decorate thy marriage morn,
Rare gems, and flowers, and lofty songs are brought;
Thou the plain utterance of a Poet's thought,
Thyself at heart a Poet, wilt not scorn:
Spring Quiet
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing;
Goblin Market
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Laura stretched her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.
An Apple-Gathering
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Lilian and Lilias smiled in trudging by,
Their heaped-up basket teazed me like a jeer;
Sweet-voiced they sang beneath the sunset sky,
Their mother's home was near.
The Foolish Harebell
© George MacDonald
A harebell hung her wilful head:
"I am tired, so tired! I wish I was dead."
The Southerly Buster
© Henry Lawson
There's a wind that blows out of the South in the drought,
And we pray for the touch of his breath
Borderland
© Henry Lawson
Dreary land in rainy weather, with the endless clouds that drift
O'er the bushman like a blanket that the Lord will never lift --
Dismal land when it is raining -- growl of floods and oh! the "woosh"
Of the rain and wind together on the dark bed of the bush --
Ghastly fires in lonely humpies where the granite rocks are pil'd
On the rain-swept wildernesses that are wildest of the wild.
