Happy poems
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There Is A Happy Land
© Andrew Young
There is a happy land, far, far away,
Where saints in glory stand, bright, bright as day.
Oh, how they sweetly sing, worthy is our Savior King,
Loud let His praises ring, praise, praise for aye.
A Hidden Life
© George MacDonald
Ah God! when Beauty passes by the door,
Although she ne'er came in, the house grows bare.
Shut, shut the door; there's nothing in the house.
Why seems it always that it should be ours?
A secret lies behind which Thou dost know,
And I can partly guess.
The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs
© Edward Lear
The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs,
They all took a drive in the Park,
Paradise Regain'd : Book I.
© John Milton
I, who erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all mankind,
The Four Seasons : Summer
© James Thomson
From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 03 - part 05
© Torquato Tasso
LXI
"Presages, ah too true:" with that a space
A Lay Of St. Nicholas
© Richard Harris Barham
Lord Abbot! Lord Abbot! I'd fain confess;
I am a-weary, and worn with woe;
Many a grief doth my heart oppress,
And haunt me whithersoever I go!'
Happiness
© Raymond Carver
So early it's still almost dark out.
I'm near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
The Troubadour. Canto 3
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
But sadness moved him when he gave
DE VALENCE to his lowly grave,--
The grave where the wild flowers were sleeping,
And one pale olive-tree was weeping,--
And placed the rude stone cross to show
A Christian hero lay below.
On The Earl Of Oxford And Mortimer's Giving His Daughter In Marriage In Oxford--Chapel.
© Mary Barber
See, in the Temple rais'd by Harley's Hand,
His beauteous Off--spring at the Altar stand:
There Mortimer resigns his darling Care;
To happy Portland gives the blooming Fair.
Is it deadFind it
© Emily Dickinson
Is it deadFind it
Out of soundOut of sight
"Happy"? Which is wiser
You, or the Wind?
"Conscious"? Won't you ask that
Of the low Ground?
A Hymn to Contentment
© Thomas Parnell
Lovely, lasting peace, appear!
This world itself, if thou art here,
Is once again with Eden blest,
And man contains it in his breast.
The Singing Leaves
© James Russell Lowell
'What fairings will ye that I bring?'
Said the King to his daughters three;
'For I to Vanity Fair am bound,
Now say what shall they be?'
Al Aaraaf: Part 2
© Edgar Allan Poe
"My Angelo! and why of them to be?
A brighter dwelling-place is here for thee-
And greener fields than in yon world above,
And woman's loveliness- and passionate love."
Home
© Rupert Brooke
I came back late and tired last night
Into my little room,
To the long chair and the firelight
And comfortable gloom.
Afternoon
© Eli Siegel
Hear Mr. Bulwer as he talks.
You might think he was so cheerful.
That smile took him ages to get
And he uses it this minute.
Safety
© Rupert Brooke
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found our hid security,
Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
And heard our word, 'Who is so safe as we?'
The Song of the Pilgrims
© Rupert Brooke
(Halted around the fire by night, after moon-set, they sing this beneath the trees.)What light of unremembered skies
Hast thou relumed within our eyes,
Thou whom we seek, whom we shall find? . . .
A certain odour on the wind,
