Happy poems
/ page 106 of 254 /An Epistle To Dr. Moore
© Helen Maria Williams
Whether dispensing hope, and ease
To the pale victim of disease,
Or in the social crowd you sit,
And charm the group with sense and wit,
Moore's partial ear will not disdain
Attention to my artless strain.
The Martyrdom Of St. Christina, By Vincenzo Catena, In The Church Of Santa Maria Mater Domini, At Ve
© Richard Monckton Milnes
ST. CHRISTINA.
(KNEELING.)
I knew, I knew, it would be so,
That, in this long--expected hour,
The Worlds Exile
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Well, I will tell you, kind adviser,
Why thus I ever roam
In distant lands, nor wish to guide
My footsteps to the fair hill--side
Where stands my sacred home.
The Legend of the Foreign Office
© Rudyard Kipling
Rajah of Kolazai,
Drinketh the "simpkin" and brandy peg,
Maketh the money to fly,
Vexeth a Government, tender and kind,
Also - but this is a detail - blind.
Night Song Of A Wandering Shepherd In Asia
© Giacomo Leopardi
What doest thou in heaven, O moon?
Say, silent moon, what doest thou?
The Mother's Return
© William Wordsworth
A MONTH, sweet Little-ones, is past
Since your dear Mother went away,--
And she tomorrow will return;
Tomorrow is the happy day.
This Desirable Mansion
© Edith Nesbit
THE long white windows blankly stare
Across the sodden, tangled grass,
Two Visits To A Grave
© Richard Monckton Milnes
I stood by the grave of one beloved,
On a chill and windless night,--
When not a blade of grass was moved,
In its rigid sheath of white.
Orpheus
© Emma Lazarus
ORPHEUS.
LAUGHTER and dance, and sounds of harp and lyre,
Piping of flutes, singing of festal songs,
Ribbons of flame from flaunting torches, dulled
The Lady of the Lake: Canto VI. - The Guardroom
© Sir Walter Scott
Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule
Laid a swinging long curse on the bonny brown bowl,
That there 's wrath and despair in the jolly black-jack,
And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack;
Yet whoop, Barnaby! off with thy liquor,
Drink upsees out, and a fig for the vicar!
One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue Part III
© Madison Julius Cawein
I seem to see her still; to see
That dim blue room. Her perfume comes
From lavender folds draped dreamily--
One blossom of brocaded blooms--
Some stuff of orient looms.
April
© Archibald Lampman
Pale season, watcher in unvexed suspense,
Still priestess of the patient middle day,
Lines To A Lady Weeping
© George Gordon Byron
Weep, daughter of a royal line,
A Sire's disgrace, a realm's decay;
Ah! happy if each tear of thine
Could wash a father's fault away!
The Sun
© Charles Baudelaire
Through the streets where at windows of old houses
the persian blinds hide secret luxuries,
when the cruel sun strikes with redoubled fury
on the roofs and fields, the meadows and city,
Between the Sunken Sun and the New Moon
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
BETWEEN the sunken sun and the new moon,
I stood in fields through which a rivulet ran
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto XII.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Preludes
I The Married Lover