Happy poems
/ page 176 of 254 /Pleasant Are Thy Courts Above
© Henry Francis Lyte
Pleasant are Thy courts above,
In the land of light and love;
The Shepheardes Calender: November
© Edmund Spenser
November: Ægloga vndecima. Thenot & Colin.
Thenot.
Colin my deare, when shall it please thee sing,
As thou were
To England
© Alfred Austin
Men deemed thee fallen, did they? fallen like Rome,
Coiled into self to foil a Vandal throng:
Trial by Jury
© William Schwenck Gilbert
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
The South Country
© Hilaire Belloc
When I am living in the Midlands
That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
My work is left behind;
And the great hills of the South Country
Come back into my mind.
To R. - at Anzac
© Aubrey Herbert
You left your vineyards, dreaming of the vines in a dream land
And dim Italian cities where high cathedrals stand.
At Anzac in the evening, so many things we planned,
And now you sleep with comrades in the Anafarta sand.
Stanzas Written In My Pocket Copy Of Thomsons "Castle Of Indolence"
© William Wordsworth
WITHIN our happy Castle there dwelt One
Whom without blame I may not overlook;
For never sun on living creature shone
Who more devout enjoyment with us took:
Women's Harvest Song
© Amy Lowell
I am waving a ripe sunflower,
I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters.
I am joyful because of my melons,
I am joyful because of my beans,
I am joyful because of my squashes.
Little Girls
© Edgar Albert Guest
He knew that earth would never do, unless a bit of Heaven it had.
Men needed eyes divinely blue to toil by day and still be glad.
A world where only men and boys made merry would in time grow stale,
And so He shared His Heavenly joys that faith in Him should never fail.
He sent us down a thousand charms, He decked our ways with golden curls
And laughing eyes and dimpled arms. He let us have His little girls.
Death In A Ball-Room
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh many, many thus have died, alas,
Children, poor things! The grave will have its prey.
Some flowers must still be mown down with the grass,
And in life's wild quadrille the dancers gay
Must trample here and there a weak one in their way.
To A Woman Of Malabar
© Charles Baudelaire
Your feet are as slender as hands, your hips, to me,
wide enough for the sweetest white girls envy:
to the wise artist your body is sweet and dear,
and your great velvet eyes black without peer.
The Great Beech
© Norman Rowland Gale
With heart disposed to memory, let me stand
Near this monarch and this minstrel of the land,
Now that Dian leans so lovely from her car.
Illusively brought near by seeming falsely far,
In yon illustrious summit sways the tangled evening star.
Waiting
© Madison Julius Cawein
Come to the hills, the woods are green--
_The heart is high when_ LOVE _is sweet_--
There is a brook that flows between
Two mossy trees where we can meet,
Where we can meet and speak unseen.
An Ode - Humbly Inscribed To The Queen, On the Glorious Success of Her Majesty's Arms
© Matthew Prior
When great Augustus govern'd ancient Rome,
And sent his conquering bands to foreign wars,
A Warm House And A Ruddy Fire
© Edgar Albert Guest
A warm house and a ruddy fire,
To what more can man aspire?
Hide and Seek
© Henry Van Dyke
All the trees are sleeping, all the winds are still,
All the flocks of fleecy clouds have wandered past the hill;