Happy poems
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Loud without the wind was roaring
© Emily Jane Brontë
"It was spring, and the skylark was singing:"
Those words they awakened a spell;
They unlocked a deep fountain, whose springing,
Nor absence, nor distance can quell.
Hesper
© Bion of Smyrna
Hesper, thou golden light of happy love,
Hesper, thou holy pride of purple eve,
natural therapy
© Rg Gregory
the great thing about the tall white daisy
is that it knows how to laugh at itselfsome flowers for all their rich displays
won't preen themselves without a primnessin their sap - nor let their stalks abide
bending this way that way in the thick windthe large daisy is happy to be slapdash
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: LVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Who has not wept with Manon? Of all tales
That thrill youth's fancy or to tears or mirth
None other is there where such grief prevails,
Such passionate pity for the loves of Earth.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 01 - Proem
© Lucretius
Mother of Rome, delight of Gods and men,
Dear Venus that beneath the gliding stars
Eclogue the Third Abra
© William Taylor Collins
SCENE, a forest TIME, the Evening
In Georgia's land, where Tefflis' towers are seen,
The Grave
© Robert Blair
While some affect the sun, and some the shade,
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying through life;the task be mine,
thirteeners
© Rg Gregory
18
if you want a revolution attack
symbols not systems - the simple forms
that (blithely) give the truth away
tying down millions to their terms
quietly with no one answering back
two crocodiles gossip by the banks of the thames at abingdon
© Rg Gregory
two old lazy crocodiles are basking by the water
they get round to talk about the macdonalds' daughtergemini gemini
have you ever set eyes on young stephaniejiminy jiminy
who lives here in abingdon - the one who is twogemini gemini
The Quality of Courage
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Was it not better so to lie?
The fight was done. Even gods tire
Of fighting. . . . My way was the wrong.
Now I should drift and drift along
To endless quiet, golden peace . . .
And let the tortured body cease.
Going Back to School
© Stephen Vincent Benet
The boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was past
And all the grey waves flamed to red again
At the dead sun's last glimmer. Far and vast
The Sausalito lights burned suddenly
Written In Early Youth. The Time,--An Autumnal Evening
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Scenes of my hope! the aching eye ye leave
Like yon bright hues that paint the clouds of eve!
Tearful and sadd'ning with the saddened blaze
Mine eye the gleam pursues with wistful gaze;
Sees shades on shades with deeper tint impend,
Till chill and damp the moonless night descend.
Alexander VI Dines with the Cardinal of Capua
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Next, then, the peacock, gilt
With all its feathers. Look, what gorgeous dyes
Flow in the eyes!
And how deep, lustrous greens are splashed and spilt
Along the back, that like a sea-wave's crest
Scatters soft beauty o'er th' emblazoned breast!
A Song Of Changgan
© Li Po
My hair had hardly covered my forehead.
I was picking flowers, paying by my door,
When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse,
Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums.
We lived near together on a lane in Ch'ang-kan,
Both of us young and happy-hearted.
Insensibility
© Wilfred Owen
IHappy are men who yet before they are killed
Can let their veins run cold.
Whom no compassion fleers
Or makes their feet
Brown And Agile Child
© Pablo Neruda
Brown and agile child, the sun which forms the fruit
And ripens the grain and twists the seaweed
Has made your happy body and your luminous eyes
And given your mouth the smile of water.
Apologia Pro Poemate Meo
© Wilfred Owen
I, too, saw God through mud --
The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled.
War brought more glory to their eyes than blood,
And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.
Asleep
© Wilfred Owen
Under his helmet, up against his pack,
After the many days of work and waking,
Sleep took him by the brow and laid him back.
And in the happy no-time of his sleeping,
Smile, Smile, Smile
© Wilfred Owen
Head to limp head, the sunk-eyed wounded scanned
Yesterday's Mail; the casualties (typed small)
And (large) Vast Booty from our Latest Haul.
Also, they read of Cheap Homes, not yet planned;
