Cool poems
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Water-Weeds
© Arthur Symons
What is this that flies with night
On the wings of the night-birds?
Ghost of love, endless delight,
Night's inarticulate words
Come, where water-weeds are cool,
Dip your fingers in the pool,
The Zonnebeke Road
© Edmund Blunden
Morning, if this late withered light can claim
Some kindred with that merry flame
The Message Of The Wind
© Harriet Monroe
The wind comes riding down from heaven.
Ho! wind of heaven, what do you bring?
Thunder On The Downs
© Robert Laurence Binyon
And if a lightning now were loosed in flame
Out of the darkness of the cloud to claim
Thy heart, O England, how wouldst thou be known
In that hour? How to the quick core be shown
And seen? What cry should from thy very soul
Answer the judgment of that thunder--roll?
Heat
© Madison Julius Cawein
Within its channel glares the creek and shrinks,
Beneath whose rocks the furtive crawfish hides
In stagnant places, where the green frog blinks,
And water-spider glides.
Written After Leaving West Point
© Frances Anne Kemble
The hours are past, love,
Oh, fled they not too fast, love!
Those happy hours, when down the mountain-side,
We saw the rosy mists of morning glide,
The Husband
© Leon Gellert
Yes, I have slain, and taken moving life
From bodies. Yea! And laughed upon the taking;
Thespis: Act II
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Jupiter, Aged Diety
Apollo, Aged Diety
Mars, Aged Diety
Diana, Aged Diety
Mercury
Above The Oxbow
© Sylvia Plath
Here in this valley of discrete academies
We have not mountains, but mounts, truncated hillocks
A Lesson From Golf
© Edgar Albert Guest
He couldn't use his driver any better on the tee
Than the chap that he was licking, who just happened to be me;
I could hit them with a brassie just as straight and just as far,
But I piled up several sevens while he made a few in par;
And he trimmed me to a finish, and I know the reason why:
He could keep his temper better when he dubbed a shot than I.
Dawn Wind
© Lola Ridge
I see you
Shaking that flower at me with soft invitation
And frisking away,
Deliciously rumpling the grass…
Australasia
© William Charles Wentworth
Hadst thou, old Cynic, seen this unclad crew
Stretch their bare bodies in the nightly dew,
Like hairy Satyrs, midst their Sylvan seats,
Endure both winter's frosts, and summer's heats;
Thy cloak and tub away thou wouldst have cast,
And tried, like them, to brave the piercing blast.
Hesperia
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
OUT OF the golden remote wild west where the sea without shore is,
Full of the sunset, and sad, if at all, with the fulness of joy,
Doors Of The Temple
© Aldous Huxley
Many are the doors of the spirit that lead
Into the inmost shrine:
The Pool
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Here in the night all wonders are,
Lapped in the lift of the ripple's swing,
A silver shell and a shaken star,
And a white moth's wing.
Here the young moon when the mists unclose
Swims like the bud of a golden rose.
At The Banquet To the Japanese Embassy
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WE welcome you, Lords of the Land of the Sun!
The voice of the many sounds feebly through one;
Ah! would 't were a voice of more musical tone,
But the dog-star is here, and the song-birds have flown.
Alexander And Phillip
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
The cypress spread their gloom
Like a cloak from the noontide beam,
He flung back his dusty plume,
And plunged in the silver stream;
He plunged like the young steed, fierce and wild,
He was borne away like the feeble child.
