Happy poems
/ page 178 of 254 /
In Spring, Santa Barbara
© Sara Teasdale
I HAVE been happy two weeks together,
My love is coming home to me,
Gold and silver is the weather
And smooth as lapis is the sea.
The Triumph of Dead : Chap. 1
© Mary Sidney Herbert
That gallant lady, gloriously bright,
The stately pillar once of worthiness,
A Funeral Poem On The Death Of C. E. An Infant Of Twelve Months
© Phillis Wheatley
Through airy roads he wings his instant flight
To purer regions of celestial light;
Beauty. Part III.
© Henry James Pye
'Tis in the mind that Beauty stands confess'd,
In all the noblest pride of glory dress'd,
Where virtue's rules the conscious bosom arm,
There to our eyes she spreads her brightest charm:
There all her rays, with force collected, shine,
Proclaim her worth, and speak her race divine.
How It Happened
© James Whitcomb Riley
I got to thinkin' of her--both her parents dead and gone--
And all her sisters married off, and none but her and John
I Taught Myself To Live Simply
© Anna Akhmatova
I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
The Tryst
© Walter de la Mare
A music wistful for the sea-nymph's sake:
Haply Elijah, o'er his spokes of fire,
Cresting steep Leo, or the heavenly Lyre,
Spied, tranced in azure of inanest space,
Some eyrie hostel, meet for human grace,
Where two might happy be just you and I
Without And Withiin
© James Russell Lowell
My coachman, in the moonlight there,
Looks through the sidelight of the door;
I hear him with his brethren swear,
As I could do-but only more.
A Flower Garden At Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire.
© William Wordsworth
TELL me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold,
While fluttering o'er this gay Recess,
Pinions that fanned the teeming mould
Of Eden's blissful wilderness,
Did only softly-stealing hours
There close the peaceful lives of flowers?
Distant Hills
© John Clare
What is there in those distant hills
My fancy longs to see,
That many a mood of joy instils?
Say what can fancy be?
Aurora Leigh: Book Eighth
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In my ears
The sound of waters. There he stood, my king!
Ambition And Content: A Fable
© Mark Akenside
Thus spoke the fair; and straight she bent her way
To the tall mountain, where the cottage lay:
Arriv'd she makes her chang'd condition known;
Tells how the rebels drove her from the throne;
What painful, dreary wilds she'd wander'd o'er;
And shelter from the tyrant doth implore.
Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair
© Stephen C. Foster
I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;
At The Green Inn, Five In The Evening (Au Cabaret-Vert, Cinq Heures Du Soir)
© Arthur Rimbaud
Depuis huit jours, j'avais déchiré mes bottines
Aux cailloux des chemins. J'entrais à Charleroi.
- Au Cabaret-Vert : je demandai des tartines
Du beurre et du jambon qui fût à moitié froid.
The Withering Of The Boughs
© William Butler Yeats
I cried when the moon was murmuring to the birds:
'Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will,
