Cool poems
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The New Year
© Emma Lazarus
Look where the mother of the months uplifts
In the green clearness of the unsunned West,
Her ivory horn of plenty, dropping gifts,
Cool, harvest-feeding dews, fine-winnowed light;
Tired labor with fruition, joy and rest
Profusely to requite.
Between the Wars
© Robert Hass
When I ran, it rained. Late in the afternoon—
midsummer, upstate New York, mornings I wrote,
from The Bridge: Southern Cross
© Hart Crane
Whatever callfalls vainly on the wave.
O simian Venus, homeless Eve,
Unwedded, stumbling gardenless to grieve
Windswept guitars on lonely decks forever;
Finally to answer all within one grave!
Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part III.
© Henry James Pye
Arm'd in her cause, on Chalgrave's fatal plain,
Where sorrowing Freedom mourns her Hambden slain,
Say, shall the moralizing bard presume
From his proud hearse to tear one warlike plume,
Because a Cæsar or a Cromwell wore
An impious wreath, wet with their country's gore?
A Love-Fancy
© Charles Harpur
Night was new-throned in heaven, and we did rove
Together in the cool and shadowless haze
For The Marriage of Faustus and Helen
© Hart Crane
There is the world dimensional for
those untwisted by the love of things
irreconcilable ...
Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."
Foolin' Wid De Seasons
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Seems lak folks is mighty curus
In de way dey t'inks an' ac's.
from The Bridge: Cutty Sark
© Hart Crane
“I ran a donkey engine down there on the Canal
in Panama—got tired of that—
then Yucatan selling kitchenware—beads—
have you seen Popocatepetl—birdless mouth
with ashes sifting down—?
and then the coast again . . . ”
When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d
© Walt Whitman
1
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ode Read At The One Hundreth Anniversary Of The Fight At Concord Bridge
© James Russell Lowell
I
Who cometh over the hills,
Coole Park 1929
© William Butler Yeats
I MEDITATE upon a swallow's flight,
Upon a aged woman and her house,
To Marguerite: Continued
© Matthew Arnold
Yes! in the sea of life enisled,
With echoing straits between us thrown,
Dotting the shoreless watery wild,
We mortal millions live alone.
The islands feel the enclasping flow,
And then their endless bounds they know.
The Birch Tree
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Touched with beauty, I stand still and gaze
In the autumn twilight. Yellow leaves and brown
The grass enriching, gleam, or waver down
From lime and elm: far--glimmering through the haze
The quiet lamps in order twinkle; dumb
And fair the park lies; faint the city's hum.
To Miss Jessie Lewars
© Robert Burns
The sun lies clasped in amber cloud
Half hidden in the sea,
And o'er the sands the flowing tide
Comes racing merrilee.
The Emigration to New Zealand
© Henry Lawson
Ive just received a letter from a chum in Maoriland,
Hes working down in Auckland where he days hes doing grand,
The climates cooler there, but hearts are warmer, says my chum,
He sends the passage money, and he says Id better come.
(Id like to see his face again, Id like to grip his hand),
He says hes sure that Ill get on first-rate in Maoriland.
Close Of Our Summer At Frascati
© Frances Anne Kemble
The end is come: in thunder and wild rain
Autumn has stormed the golden house of Summer.
Forest And Field
© Madison Julius Cawein
I
GREEN, watery jets of light let through
The rippling foliage drenched with dew;
And golden glimmers, warm and dim,
