Happy poems
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In Misty Blue
© Robert Laurence Binyon
In misty blue the lark is heard
Above the silent homes of men;
Atlantic Oil
© Cesare Pavese
The drunk mechanic is happy to be in the ditch.
From the tavern, five minutes through the dark field
The Lesson of Grief
© George Meredith
Not ere the bitter herb we taste,
Which ages thought of happy times,
To plant us in a weeping waste,
Rings with our fellows this one heart
Accordant chimes.
God Bless America
© John Fuller
When they confess that they have lost the penial bone and outer space is
Once again a numinous void, when they’re kept out of Other Places,
And Dr Fieser falls asleep at last and dreams of unburnt faces,
When gold medals are won by the ton for forgetting about the different races,
God Bless America.
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 30
© Alfred Tennyson
With trembling fingers did we weave
The holly round the Christmas hearth;
A rainy cloud possess'd the earth,
And sadly fell our Christmas-eve.
When de Co'n Pone's Hot
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Dey is times in life when Nature
Seems to slip a cog an' go,
A Complaint
© William Wordsworth
A well of love-it may be deep-
I trust it is,-and never dry:
What matter? if the waters sleep
In silence and obscurity.
-Such change, and at the very door
Of my fond heart, hath made me poor.
Praise For Thee, Lord, in Zion Waits
© Henry Francis Lyte
Praise for Thee, Lord, in Zion waits;
Prayer shall besiege Thy temple gates;
All flesh shall to Thy throne repair,
And find through Christ salvation there.
Faringdon Hill. Book II
© Henry James Pye
The sultry hours are past, and Phbus now
Spreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:
Youth in Arms
© Harold Monro
HAPPY boy, happy boy,
David the immortal-willed,
Youth a thousand thousand times
Slain, but not once killed,
Swaggering again today
In the old contemptuous way;
Over The Waters
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OVER the crystal waters
She leans in careless grace,
Smiling to view within them
Her own fair happy face.
II.
James Lionel Michael
© Henry Kendall
Latter leaves, in Autumns breath,
White and sere,
Sanctify the scholars death,
Lying here.
The Half Of Life Gone
© William Morris
No, no, it is she no longer; never again can she come
And behold the hay-wains creeping o'er the meadows of her home;
No more can she kiss her son or put the rake in his hand
That she handled a while agone in the midst of the haymaking band.
Her laughter is gone and her life; there is no such thing on the earth,
No share for me then in the stir, no share in the hurry and mirth.
Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere
© Alfred Tennyson
LIKE souls that balance joy and pain,
With tears and smiles from heaven again
