Happy poems
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To Sylvia
© Giacomo Leopardi
O Sylvia, dost thou remember still
That period of thy mortal life,
When beauty so bewildering
Shone in thy laughing, glancing eyes,
As thou, so merry, yet so wise,
Youth's threshold then wast entering?
Soul-Drift
© Mathilde Blind
I LET my soul drift with the thistledown
Afloat upon the honeymooning breeze;
My thoughts about the swelling buds are blown,
Blown with the golden dust of flowering trees.
As In The Midst Of Battle There Is Room
© George Santayana
As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;
The Marriage Of Geraint
© Alfred Tennyson
'Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine, storm, and cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.
November, 1851
© George MacDonald
Why wilt thou stop and start?
Draw nearer, oh my heart,
And I will question thee most wistfully;
Gather thy last clear resolution
To look upon thy dissolution.
The Wonder-Working Magician - Act II
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
CYPRIAN. Ever wrangling in this way,
How ye both my patience try!
Why can he not go? Say why?
The Castle Of Indolence
© James Thomson
The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.
Metamorphoses: Book The Eighth
© Ovid
The End of the Eighth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Laurance - [Part 2]
© Jean Ingelow
Then looking hard upon her, came to him
The power to feel and to perceive. Her teeth
Chattered, and all her limbs with shuddering failed,
And in her threadbare shawl was wrapped a child
That looked on him with wondering, wistful eyes.
Sappho II
© Sara Teasdale
Oh Litis, little slave, why will you sleep?
These long Egyptian noons bend down your head
Bowed like the yarrow with a yellow bee.
There, lift your eyes no man has ever kindled,
Sonnet I "Poet! If on a Lasting Fame Be Bent"
© Henry Timrod
Poet! if on a lasting fame be bent
Thy unperturbing hopes, thou will not roam
The Stethoscope Song. A Professional Ballad
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THERE was a young man in Boston town,
He bought him a stethoscope nice and new,
All mounted and finished and polished down,
With an ivory cap and a stopper too.
The Soldier's Christmas Eve
© Anonymous
In a southern forest gloomy and old,
So lately the scene of a terrible fight,
The Rape Of Lucrece
© William Shakespeare
TO THE
RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
Italy : 22. Ginevra
© Samuel Rogers
If thou shouldst ever come by choice or chance
To Modena, where still religiously
Among her ancient trophies is preserved
Bologna's bucket (in its chain it hangs
Christmas In The Heart
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
The snow lies deep upon the ground,
And winter's brightness all around
The Garden Of Boccaccio
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Still in thy garden let me watch their pranks,
…
With that sly satyr peeping through the leaves !
A Debtor to Mercy Alone
© Augustus Montague Toplady
A debtor to mercy alone, of covenant mercy I sing;
Nor fear, with Thy righteousness on, my person and offring to bring.
The terrors of law and of God with me can have nothing to do;
My Saviors obedience and blood hide all my transgressions from view.
