Happiness poems
/ page 9 of 76 /Ode To Happiness
© James Russell Lowell
Spirit, that rarely comest now
And only to contrast my gloom,
PARADOX. That Fruition destroyes Love
© Henry King
Love is our Reasons Paradox, which still
Against the judgment doth maintain the Will:
And governs by such arbitrary laws,
It onely makes the Act our Likings cause:
The Sinner and The Spider
© John Bunyan
Not filthy as thyself in name or feature.
My name entailed is to my creation,
My features from the God of thy salvation.
Elegy VI
© Henry James Pye
Now has bright Sol fulfill'd his circling course,
Again to Taurus roll'd his burning car,
Growing Attachment
© John Kenyon
With the freshness and placid sensations of morning,
As yet all unconscious of hope or of plan,
Our Jack
© Henry Kendall
Twelve years ago our Jack was lost. All night,
Twelve years ago, the Spirit of the Storm
The Hereafter
© James Whitcomb Riley
Hereafter! O we need not waste
Our smiles or tears, whatever befall:
When Will It End?
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
O when will it end, this appalling strife,
With its reckless waste of human life,
Its riving of highest, holiest ties,
Its tears of anguish and harrowing sighs,
Its ruined homes from which hope has fled,
Its broken hearts and its countless dead?
The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.
© James Beattie
I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
Farmer Whipple--Bachelor
© James Whitcomb Riley
It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four,
Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more--
A-lookin' glad and smilin'! And they's none o' you can say
That you can guess the reason why I feel so good to-day!
Too Big A Price
© Edgar Albert Guest
"They say my boy is bad," she said to me,
A tired old woman, thin and very frail.
The Oriental Nosegay. By Pickersgill
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Beautiful language! Love's peculiar, own,
But only to the spring and summer known.
Ah! little marvel in such clime and age
As that of our too earth-bound pilgrimage,
That we should daily hear that love is fled,
And hope grown pale, and lighted feelings dead.
Sunrise
© Victor Marie Hugo
Foul times there are when nations spiritless
Throw honour away
For tinsel glory, to base happiness
A mournful prey.
Poetry And Reality
© Jane Taylor
THE worldly minded, cast in common mould,
With all his might pursuing fame or gold,
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
Of Three Children
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Nor prince nor peer of fairyland
Had power to weave that wide riband
Of the grey, the gold, the green.