Happy poems
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Book Thirteenth [Imagination And Taste, How Impaired And Restored Concluded]
© William Wordsworth
FROM Nature doth emotion come, and moods
Of calmness equally are Nature's gift:
The Ring And The Book - Chapter II - Half-Rome
© Robert Browning
All five soon somehow found themselves at Rome,
At the villa door: there was the warmth and light
The sense of life so just an inch inside
Some angel must have whispered One more chance!
A Ballad Of Claremont Hill
© Henry Van Dyke
The roar of the city is low,
Muffled by new-fallen snow,
Homage To Sextus Propertius - I
© Ezra Pound
Flame burns, rain sinks into the cracks
And they all go to rack ruin beneath the thud of the years.
Stands genius a deathless adornment,
a name not to be worn out with the years.
Paddy Malone in Australia
© Anonymous
Och ! my name's Pat Malone, and I'm from Tipperary.
Sure, I don't know it now, I'm so bothered, Ohone!
He comes
© Yehudah HaLevi
He comes, O bliss!
Fly swiftly, you winds,
You odorous breezes,
And tell him how long
I've waited for this!
Italy : 25. Don Garzia
© Samuel Rogers
Among those awful forms, in elder time
Assembled, and through many an after-age
Destined to stand as Genii of the Place
Where men most meet in Florence, may be seen
The Courtship Of Miles Standish
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thereupon answered the youth: "Indeed I do not condemn you;
Stouter hearts that a woman's have quailed in this terrible winter.
Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on;
So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage
Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!"
Epochs
© Emma Lazarus
Thin summer rain on grass and bush and hedge,
Reddening the road and deepening the green
On wide, blurred lawn, and in close-tangled sedge;
Veiling in gray the landscape stretched between
These low broad meadows and the pale hills seen
But dimly on the far horizon's edge.
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act III
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
LUIS. Oh, that name
Do not mention! do not kill me
By repeating what doth thrill me
To the centre of my frame
As with lightning. Yes, I know
That at length Polonia died.
Stella At Wood Park, A House Of Charles Ford, Esq., Near Dublin
© Jonathan Swift
Don Carlos, in a merry spight,
Did Stella to his house invite:
He entertain'd her half a year
With generous wines and costly cheer.
A Forest Hymn
© William Cullen Bryant
The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
Echo And The Ferry
© Jean Ingelow
So Oliver went, but the cowslips were tall at my feet,
And all the white orchard with fast-falling blossom was litter'd;
And under and over the branches those little birds twitter'd,
While hanging head downwards they scolded because I was seven.
A pity. A very great pity. One should be eleven.
To The Reader Of University Notes
© Robert Fuller Murray
Ah yes, we know what you're saying,
As your eye glances over these Notes:
'What asses are these that are braying
With flat and unmusical throats?
The Vicissitudes Experienced In The Christian Life
© William Cowper
I suffer fruitless anguish day by day,
Each moment, as it passes, marks my pain;
Scarce knowing whither, doubtfully I stray,
And see no end of all that I sustain.
The Muses Threnodie: Seventh Muse
© Henry Adamson
To Moncrieff eastern, then to Wallace town,
To Fingask of Dundas; thence passing down
Unto the Rynd, as martial men we fare;
What life man's heart could wish more void of care?
Passing the river Earn, on the other side,
Drilling our sojers, vulgars were afraid.
The Horse Thief
© William Rose Benet
There he moved, cropping the grass at the purple canyons lip.
His mane was mixed with the moonlight that silvered his snow-white side,
For the moon sailed out of a cloud with the wake of a spectral ship.
I crouched and I crawled on my belly, my lariat coil looped wide.
