Cool poems
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Recollection of the Arabian Nights
© Alfred Tennyson
WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free
In the silken sail of infancy,
To My Old Readers
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Nor be forgotten our ANNEXES twain,
Nor HE, the owner of the squinting brain,
Which, while its curious fancies we pursue,
Oft makes us question, "Are we crack-brained too?"
Twilight And Peace
© Roderic Quinn
O GREY and dewy Twilight,
Thou, who comest softly, bringing
Silence sweeter than all music,
Song of bird or mortal singing;
In the Holy Nativity of Our Lord God : A Hymn Sung as by the Shepherds
© Richard Crashaw
COME, we shepherds whose blest sight
Hath met Love's noon in Nature's night ;
Come lift up our loftier song,
And wake the sun that lies too long.
During Music
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
O COOL unto the sense of pain
That last night's sleep could not destroy;
Reynard The Fox - Part 2
© John Masefield
Down in the village men awoke,
The chimneys breathed with a faint blue smoke;
The fox slept on, though tweaks and twitches,
Due to his dreams, ran down his flitches.
The Federal City
© Henry Lawson
OH! the folly, the waste, and the pity! Oh, the time that is flung behind!
They are seeking a site for a city, whose eyes shall be always blind,
Whose love for their ease grows greater, and whose care for their country less
They are seeking a site for a citya City of Selfishness.
Sea Holly
© Conrad Aiken
Begotten by the meeting of rock with rock,
The mating of rock and rock, rocks gnashing together;
Noon On The Barrier Ranges
© Roderic Quinn
THE saltbush steeped in drowsy stillness lies,
The mulga seems to swoon,
A hawk hangs poised within the burning skies,
And it is noon.
The Passing Of A Heart
© James Whitcomb Riley
O touch me with your hands--
For pity's sake!
My brow throbs ever on with such an ache
As only your cool touch may take away;
And so, I pray
You, touch me with your hands!
O Fons Bandusae
© Henry Austin Dobson
O BABBLING Spring, than glass more clear,
Worthy of wreath and cup sincere,
May, 1918
© John Jay Chapman
Again my eyes upon the night were turned.
The central darkness bloomed, androbed in state
While her great works about her burned
Sate France enthronèd and incoronate!
Toplesstown
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Talk about a hit! They're packed in and linin' up
A cover and a minimum--coffee $2 a cup
Lucy's pullin' down a thousand a week with tips and all
Workin' double shifts while startin' to bitch how
Her arches are beginning to fall.
A Fable For Critics
© James Russell Lowell
'Why, nothing of consequence, save this attack
On my friend there, behind, by some pitiful hack,
Who thinks every national author a poor one,
That isn't a copy of something that's foreign,
And assaults the American Dick--'
Grey
© Ada Cambridge
Is the morning dim and cloudy? Does the wind drift up the leaves?
Is there mist upon the mountains, where the sun shone yesterday?
Are the little song-birds silent? Is the sky all blurred and grey?
Does the rain fall, patter, patter, from the eaves?
The Canadian Country Doctor
© William Henry Drummond
I s'pose mos'ev'ry body t'ink hees job's
about de hardes'
A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim
© Walt Whitman
A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim,
As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless,
As slow I walk in the cool fresh air the path near by the hospital tent,
Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there untended lying,
Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woolen blanket,
Gray and heavy blanket, folding, covering all.
