Cool poems
/ page 30 of 144 /"As a White Stone..."
© Anna Akhmatova
As a white stone in the well's cool deepness,
There lays in me one wonderful remembrance.
I am not able and don't want to miss this:
It is my torture and my utter gladness.
Hudibras: Part 2 - Canto I
© Samuel Butler
Quoth she, I grant it is in vain.
For one that's basted to feel pain,
Because the pangs his bones endure
Contribute nothing to the cure:
Yet honor hurt, is wont to rage
With pain no med'cine can asswage.
Metamorphoses: Book The Tenth
© Ovid
The End of the Tenth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Easter-Day
© Robert Browning
XXXII.
Then did the Form expand, expand
I knew Him through the dread disguise,
As the whole God within his eyes
Embraced me.
Morning Song Of The Bees
© Louisa May Alcott
"Awake! awake! for the earliest gleam
Of golden sunlight shines
Song Of The Naiads
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
GAY is our crystal floor,
Beneath the wave,
With strange gems flaming o'er
The Genii gave;
A Streams Singing
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O HOW beautiful is Morning!
How the sunbeams strike the daisies,
And the kingcups fill the meadow
Like a golden-shielded army
A Mountain Gateway
© Bliss William Carman
I know a vale where I would go one day,
When June comes back and all the world once more
Is glad with summer. Deep in shade it lies
A mighty cleft between the bosoming hills,
A cool dim gateway to the mountains' heart.
Trouble In De Kitchen
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
DEY was oncet a awful quoil 'twixt de skillet an' de pot;
De pot was des a-bilin' an' de skillet sho' was hot.
The Tide River
© Charles Kingsley
Clear and cool, clear and cool,
By laughing shallow and dreaming pool;
The Valley Of Baca
© Emma Lazarus
A brackish lake is there with bitter pools
Anigh its margin, brushed by heavy trees.
A piping wind the narrow valley cools,
Fretting the willows and the cypresses.
Gray skies above, and in the gloomy space
An awful presence hath its dwelling-place.
Sydney
© Arthur Henry Adams
In her grey majesty of ancient stone
She queens it proudly, though the sun's caress
The Witch of Hebron
© Charles Harpur
Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare
Of Indian and Armenian workmanship
Which might have seemed a wonder of the world:
And trains of servitors of every clime,
Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians,
In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls.
In Egypt
© Virna Sheard
All day the wife of Pharaoh had paced the palace hall
Or the long white pillared court that was open to the sky;
A passion of wild restlessness ensnared her in its thrall
While she fought a fear within her--a thing that would not die.
Book Eighth: Retrospect--Love Of Nature Leading To Love Of Man
© William Wordsworth
WHAT sounds are those, Helvellyn, that are heard
Up to thy summit, through the depth of air
The Robin
© John Greenleaf Whittier
MY old Welsh neighbor over the way
Crept slowly out in the sun of spring,
Pushed from her ears the locks of gray,
And listened to hear the robin sing.
The Curse of Mother Flood
© Henry Kendall
Wizened the wood is, and wan is the way through it;
White as a corpse is the face of the fen;
Eclogue 1: Meliboeus Tityrus
© Publius Vergilius Maro
TITYRUS
Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air,
The seas their fish leave naked on the strand,
Germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds,
And these the Arar, those the Tigris drink,
Than from my heart his face and memory fade.
A Legend Of Madrid
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
O'er the horn'd front drops the streamer,
In the nape the sharp steel hisses,
Glances, grazes, - Christ! Redeemer!
By a hair the spine he misses.