Poems begining by F
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from 'The Princess'
© Alfred Tennyson
'Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: wake thou with me.
Faith by Judy Loest : American Life in Poetry #216 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Judy Loest lives in Knoxville and, like many fine Appalachian writers, her poems have a welcoming conversational style, rooted in that region's storytelling tradition. How gracefully she sweeps us into the landscape and the scene!
Faith
Leaves drift from the cemetery oaks onto late grass,
From "Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship" - Book IV, Chap. XI
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Except the yearning!
Alone, a prey to woe,
From Evangeline
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow,
All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing,
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience!
And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom,
Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured,
Father, I thank thee!
First Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Where is the land with milk and honey flowing,
The promise of our God, our fancy's theme?
From Menander
© William Cowper
Fond youth! who dream'st that hoarded gold
Is needful not alone to pay
For all thy various items sold,
To serve the wants of every day;
From Faust - Second Part - Scene The Last
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
ANGELS.
[Hovering in the higher regions of air, and hearing the immortal
part of Faust.]
Fontinella To Florinda
© Jonathan Swift
When on my bosom thy bright eyes,
Florinda, dart their heavenly beams,
I feel not the least love surprise,
Yet endless tears flow down in streams;
There's nought so beautiful in thee,
But you may find the same in me.
For The Fair In Aid Of The Fund To Procure Balls Statue Of Washington
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
1630
ALL overgrown with bush and fern,
From The Cross
© John Donne
Who can blot out the Cross, which thinstrument
Of God, dewd on me in the Sacrament?
Fredman's song no. 10
© Carl Michael Bellman
Drink till after twelve or more,
Live it up with madmen !
For The Friends At Hurstmont
© Henry Van Dyke
THE DOOR
The lintel low enough to keep out pomp and pride:
The threshold high enough to turn deceit aside:
The fastening strong enough from robbers to defend:
This door will open at a touch to welcome every friend.
Fragment Of A Sonnet. Farewell To North Devon
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Where man's profane and tainting hand
Natures primaeval loveliness has marred,
And some few souls of the high bliss debarred
Which else obey her powerful command;
...mountain piles
That load in grandeur Cambria's emerald vales.
From The Portuguese
© Edith Nesbit
And they from the village of youth
Run by our doorsteps laughing,
Calling, to shew each other
The new shawl, the new comb, the new fan,
The new rose, the new lover.
Felix Antonius
© Sir Henry Newbolt
To-day, my friend is seventy-five;
He tells his tale with no regret;
His brave old eyes are steadfast yet,
His heart the .lightest heart alive.
For The Fallen
© Robert Laurence Binyon
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Freshness Of Poetic Perception
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
DAY followed day; years perish; still mine eyes
Are opened on the self-same round of space;
Yon fadeless forests in their Titan grace,
And the large splendors of those opulent skies.
