Cool poems
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Lockerbie Street
© James Whitcomb Riley
Such a dear little street it is, nestled away
From the noise of the city and heat of the day,
In cool shady coverts of whispering trees,
With their leaves lifted up to shake hands with the breeze
Which in all its wide wanderings never may meet
With a resting-place fairer than Lockerbie street!
In Mythic Seas
© Madison Julius Cawein
'Neath saffron stars and satin skies, dark-blue,
Between dim sylvan isles, a happy two.
September
© Archibald Lampman
Now hath the summer reached her golden close,
And, lost amid her corn-fields, bright of soul,
At Eleusis
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
MEN of Eleusis, ye that with long staves
Sit in the market-houses, and speak words
The Soldier's Return to His Home
© Robert Bloomfield
My untried muse shall no high tone assume,
Nor strut in arms - farewell, my cap and plume!
The Task: Book I. -- The Sofa
© William Cowper
I sing the Sofa. I who lately sang
Truth, Hope, and Charity, and touched with awe
Periander
© George Meredith
How died Melissa none dares shape in words.
A woman who is wife despotic lords
Count faggot at the question, Shall she live!
Her son, because his brows were black of her,
Runs barking for his bread, a fugitive,
And Corinth frowns on them that feed the cur.
The Shepherds Calendar - July (2nd version)
© John Clare
July the month of summers prime
Again resumes her busy time
Scythes tinkle in each grassy dell
Where solitude was wont to dwell
Music:To A Boy Of Four Years Old, On Hearing Him Play The Harp
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
SWEET boy! before thy lips can learn
In speech thy wishes to make known,
Are "thoughts that breathe and words that burn"
Heard in thy music's tone.
Oft Have I Read That Innocence Retreats
© Thomas Parnell
Oft have I read that Innocence retreats
Where cooling streams salute ye summer Seats
Eudoxia. First Picture
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
O SWEETEST my sister, my sister that sits in the sun,
Her lap full of jewels, and roses in showers on her hair;
Soft smiling and counting her riches up slow, one by one,
Cool-browed, shaking dew from her garlands--those garlands so fair,
The Little Sister Of The Prophet
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Then the little brown mother smiled,
As one does on the words of a well-loved child,
And, "Son," she replied, "have the oxen been watered and fed ?
For work is to do, though the skies be never so red,
And already the first sweet hours of the day are spent."
And he sighed, and went.
An Address To Night
© Madison Julius Cawein
Like some sad spirit from an unknown shore
Thou comest with two children in thine arms:
The Swagless Swaggie
© Edward Harrington
This happened many years ago
Before the bush was cleared,
When every man was six foot high
And wore a flowing beard.
The Sundew
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
A LITTLE marsh-plant, yellow green,
And pricked at lip with tender red.
Tread close, and either way you tread
Some faint black water jets between
Lest you should bruise the curious head.
"I Was A Stranger, And Ye Took Me In"
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'Neath skies that winter never knew
The air was full of light and balm,
And warm and soft the Gulf wind blew
Through orange bloom and groves of palm.
Theology in Extremis: Or a soliloquy that may have been delivered in India, June, 1857
© Alfred Comyn Lyall
Oft in the pleasant summer years,
Reading the tales of days bygone,
I have mused on the story of human tears,
All that man unto man had done,
Massacre, torture, and black despair;
Reading it all in my easy-chair.
The Fifteen Acres
© James Brunton Stephens
I cling and swing
On a branch, or sing
Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O:
Or fling my wing
Hyperion, A Vision: Attempted Reconstruction Of The Poem
© John Keats
"With such remorseless speed still come new woes,
That unbelief has not a space to breathe.
Saturn! sleep on: me thoughtless, why should I
Thus violate thy slumbrous solitude?
Why should I ope thy melancholy eyes?
Saturn! sleep on, while at thy feet I weep."
