Happy poems
/ page 100 of 254 /
Virgil's First Eclogue
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
TITYRUS.
O Meliboeus, a god for us this leisure created,
For he will be unto me a god forever; his altar
Oftentimes shall imbue a tender lamb from our sheepfolds.
He, my heifers to wander at large, and myself, as thou seest,
On my rustic reed to play what I will, hath permitted.
Of The Death Of Sir Thomas Wyatt The Elder
© Henry Howard
Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.
Carmen XLVI
© Gaius Valerius Catullus
Now spring is bringing back the warmer days,
Now the rage of the equinoctial sky
Gladys And Her Island
© Jean Ingelow
“Ah, well, but I am here; but I have seen
The gay gorse bushes in their flowering time;
I know the scent of bean-fields; I have heard
The satisfying murmur of the main.”
Bishops Caundle
© William Barnes
At peace day, who but we should goo
To Caundle vor an' hour or two:
Dorcas
© George MacDonald
If I might guess, then guess I would
That, mid the gathered folk,
This gentle Dorcas one day stood,
And heard when Jesus spoke.
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The Second =First Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
MAR. We know that you are not a theologian but a philosopher, and that
you treat of philosophy and not of theology.
To His Wife
© Daniel Henry Deniehy
O Pure of soul, and fond and deep of heart
For those who darkened be,
Naples
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Fold her, O Father, in Thine arms,
And let her henceforth be
A messenger of love between
Our human hearts and Thee.
The Lure
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The long road lures across the hill,
Divides the brown fields and the green,
And curves, and dips, and climbing still
Gleams over into lands unseen.
Fourth Sunday In Lent
© John Keble
When Nature tries her finest touch,
Weaving her vernal wreath,
Mark ye, how close she veils her round,
Not to be traced by sight or sound,
Nor soiled by ruder breath?
Before The Mirror
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHERE in her chamber by the Southern sea,
Her taper's light shone soft and silvery,
Fair as a planet mirrored in the main,
Fresh as a blossom bathed by April rain,
A Tale
© John Logan
Where pastoral Tweed, renown'd in song,
With rapid murmur flows;
In Caledonia's classic ground,
The hall of Arthur rose.
The Origin of the Sail
© Amelia Opie
"Sweet maid! on whom my wishes rest,
My morning thought, my midnight dream,
O grant Lysander's fond request,
And let those eyes with mercy beam!
Lovely Chance
© Sara Teasdale
O LOVELY chance, what can I do
To give my gratefulness to you?
You rise between myself and me
With a wise persistency;
Boston
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
The rocky nook with hilltops three
Looked eastward from the farms,
And twice each day the flowing sea
Took Boston in its arms;
The men of yore were stout and poor,
And sailed for bread to every shore.
A Session With Uncle Sidney
© James Whitcomb Riley
Uncle Sidney's vurry proud
Of little Leslie-Janey,
'Cause she's so smart, an' goes to school
Clean 'way in Pennsylvany!
A Catch
© Madison Julius Cawein
When roads are mired with ice and snow,
And the air of morn is crisp with rime;
