Cool poems
/ page 99 of 144 /To Quintus Hirpinus
© Eugene Field
To Scythian and Cantabrian plots,
Pay them no heed, O Quintius!
So long as we
From care are free,
Vexations cannot cinch us.
The Combat. By Etty
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
THEY fled,--for there was for the brave
Left only a dishonour'd grave.
A Singing Bird In The City
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Golden-throated, hath God sent thee for our comfort in the city?
Sweet, sweet! singing, singing all the day.
Amaryllis
© Carl Michael Bellman
Amaryllis, thy sweet name pronouncing,
Thee in Neptune's cool embrace announcing.
Slumber's god the while his sway renouncing,
O'er your eyes sighs, and speech yields his spell.
Dives In Torment
© Robert Norwood
THIS was my failure, who thought that the feast
Rivalled the rapture of bird on the wing;
Rivalled the lily all robed like a priest;
Smoke of the pollen when Rose-censers swing.
Another Fan
© Stéphane Mallarme
Dear dreamer, help me to take off
Into my pathless, pure delight,
By always holding in your glove
My wing, a thin pretence of flight.
The Debate In The Sennit
© James Russell Lowell
SOT TO A NUSRY RHYME
'Here we stan' on the Constitution, by thunder!
Love At Sea
© John Reed
Wind smothers the snarling of the great ships,
And the serene gulls are stronger than turbines;
Mile upon mile the hiss of a stumbling wave breaks unbroken
Yet stronger is the power of your lips for my lips.
The Children Of The Lord's Supper. (From The Swedish Of Bishop Tegner)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Closed was the Teacher's task, and with heaven in their hearts and their faces,
Up rose the children all, and each bowed him, weeping full sorely,
Downward to kiss that reverend hand, but all of them pressed he
Moved to his bosom, and laid, with a prayer, his hands full of blessings,
Now on the holy breast, and now on the innocent tresses.
Tale VI
© George Crabbe
need,
For habit told when all things should proceed;
Few their amusements, but when friends appear'd,
They with the world's distress their spirits
A Family Row
© Edgar Albert Guest
I freely confess there are good friends of mine,
With whom we are often invited to dine,
At Columbine's Grave
© Bliss William Carman
AH, Pierrot,
Where is thy Columbine?
What vandal could untwine
That gay rose-rope of thine,
And spill thy joy like wine,
Poor Pierrot?
Calidore: A Fragment
© John Keats
The sidelong view of swelling leafiness,
Which the glad setting sun, in gold doth dress;
Whence ever, and anon the jay outsprings,
And scales upon the beauty of its wings.
Adam And Eve
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
And when day wearied and night grew stronger,
And they slept as the beautiful must,
Then she bided a little longer,
And blossomed from their dust.