Happy poems
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At The Birth Of An Age
© Robinson Jeffers
V
GUDRUN (standing this side of the closing curtains; 'with Chrysothemis.
Carling has left her, going
When Sam'l Sings
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Hyeah dat singin' in de medders
Whaih de folks is mekin' hay?
War's Homecoming
© Edgar Albert Guest
We little thought how much they meant--the bleeding hearts of France,
And British mothers wearing black to mark some troop's advance,
The war was, O, so distant then, the grief so far away,
We couldn't see the weeping eyes, nor hear the women pray.
We couldn't sense the weight of woe that rested on that land,
But now our boy is called to go--to-day, we understand.
The Reverend Dr. L---.
© Mary Barber
In vain you shew a happy Nation,
The Gospel's gracious Dispensation;
And plead from thence, to bring up Youth
To early Piety and Truth.
To unattentive Ears you preach,
What Miseries alone can teach.
From: A Poet's Hope
© William Ellery Channing
Lady, there is a hope that all men have,
Some mercy for their faults, a grassy place
To rest in, and a flower-strewn, gentle grave;
Another hope which purifies our race,
That when that fearful bourn forever past,
They may find rest, - and rest so long to last.
Felix Opportunitate Mortis
© Alfred Austin
Exile or Caesar? Death hath solved thy doubt,
And made thee certain of thy changeless fate;
The Columbiad: Book V
© Joel Barlow
Sage Franklin next arose with cheerful mien,
And smiled unruffled o'er the solemn scene;
His locks of age a various wreath embraced,
Palm of all arts that e'er a mortal graced;
Beneath him lay the sceptre kings had borne,
And the tame thunder from the tempest torn.
Shakuntala Act VII (Final Act)
© Kalidasa
ACT VII
King Dushyant with Matali in the chariot of Indra (king of gods in heaven and also god of thunder), supposed to be above the clouds.
King Dushyant: I am sensible, O Matali, that, for having executed the commission which Indra gave me, I deserved not such a profusion of honours.
The Ancient Blessing
© Hovhannes Toumanian
'Neath a hazel's green, gathered in a ring
Sat the men of age, who had known life's sting.
Ode On A Distant Prospect Of Clapham Academy
© Thomas Hood
Ah me! those old familiar bounds!
That classic house, those classic grounds
My pensive thought recalls!
What tender urchins now confine,
What little captives now repine,
Within yon irksome walls?
The Year-King
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
It is the last of all the days,
The day on which the Old Year dies.
Ah! yes, the fated hour is near;
I see upon his snow-white bier
Outstretched the weary wanderer lies,
And mark his dying gaze.
My Friend
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
MY Friend wears a cheerful smile of his own,
And a musical tongue has he;
We sit and look in each other's face,
And are very good company.
Giovanni Malatesta At Rimini
© Arthur Symons
Giovanni Malatesta, the lame old man,
Walking one night, as he was used, being old,
The Maid-Martyr
© Jean Ingelow
Her face, O! it was wonderful to me,
There was not in it what I look'd for-no,
I never saw a maid go to her death,
How should I dream that face and the dumb soul?
April in the Hills
© Archibald Lampman
To-day the world is wide and fair
With sunny fields of lucid air,
Dulce Domum,
© Helen Maria Williams
AN OLD LATIN ODE.
SUNG ANNUALLY BY THE WlNCHESTER BOYS UPON
LEAVING COLLEGE AT THE VACATION. [Translated at the Request of DR. JOSEPH WARTON.]
Book Fourteenth [conclusion]
© William Wordsworth
In one of those excursions (may they ne'er
Fade from remembrance!) through the Northern tracts
A Parental Ode to My Son, Aged 3 Years and 5 months
© Thomas Hood
Thou happy, happy elf!
(But stop,first let me kiss away that tear)
Thou tiny image of myself!
(My love, he's poking peas into his ear!)
