Cool poems
/ page 49 of 144 /Till The Wind Gets Right
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
OH the breeze is blowin' balmy
And the sun is in a haze;
The Farmer's Boy - Autumn
© Robert Bloomfield
Again, the year's _decline_, midst storms and floods,
The thund'ring chase, the yellow fading woods,
Invite my song; that fain would boldly tell
Of upland coverts, and the echoing dell,
By turns resounding loud, at eve and morn
The swineherd's halloo, or the huntsman's horn.
Metamorphoses: Book The Seventh
© Ovid
The End of the Seventh 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
Commission
© Ezra Pound
Go, my songs, to the lonely and the unsatisfied,
Go also to the nerve-racked, go to the enslaved-by-convention,
Bear to them my contempt for their oppressors.
Go as a great wave of cool water,
Bear my contempt of oppressors.
1946-47
© Jibanananda Das
Thousands of Bengali villages, silent and powerless, sink into
hopelessness and lightlessness.
When the sun sets, a certain lovely haired darkness
Comes to fix her hair in-a bun-but by whose hands?
The Four Seasons : Winter
© James Thomson
See, Winter comes, to rule the varied year,
Sullen and sad, with all his rising train;
Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Be these my theme,
These! that exalt the soul to solemn thought,
To a Little Maid - by a Politician
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Come with me, little maid,
Nay, shrink not, thus afraid -
The Spirit Of The Forest Spring
© Madison Julius Cawein
Over the rocks she trails her locks,
Her mossy locks that drip, drip, drip:
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Fourth
© William Lisle Bowles
O'er my poor ANNA'S lowly grave
No dirge shall sound, no knell shall ring;
But angels, as the high pines wave,
Their half-heard "Miserere" sing.
The Headless Trooper.
© James Brunton Stephens
NO; not another step, for all
The troopers out of hell!
Clair de lune (Moonlight on the Bosphorus)
© Victor Marie Hugo
La lune était sereine et jouait sur les flots. -
La fenêtre enfin libre est ouverte à la brise,
La sultane regarde, et la mer qui se brise,
Là-bas, d'un flot d'argent brode les noirs îlots.
The Best Time Of The Day
© Raymond Carver
Cool summer nights.
Windows open.
Lamps burning.
Fruit in the bowl.
And your head on my shoulder.
These the happiest moments in the day.
Don Juan: Canto The Third
© George Gordon Byron
The isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.
Reading 'Hamlet'
© Anna Akhmatova
And, as if in wrong occasion,
I said, "Thou," else...
And an easy smile of pleasure
Lit up dear face.
Bee-Master
© Victoria Mary Sackville-West
I have known honey from the Syrian hills
Stored in cool jars; the wild acacia there
Written Upon The Rocks At Tunbridge,
© Mary Barber
Hither, amongst the Crouds, that shun
The smoaky Town, and sultry Sun,
In cooling Springs to seek for Health,
Or throw away superfluous Wealth,
A Native of Hibernia came,
Thus writ her Thoughts, but not her Name.
Archduchess Anne
© George Meredith
In middle age an evil thing
Befell Archduchess Anne:
She looked outside her wedding-ring
Upon a princely man.
OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.