Happy poems

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In Honour of that High and Mighty Princess, Queen ELIZABETH

© Anne Bradstreet

3.1 Here sleeps T H E Queen, this is the royal bed
3.2 O' th' Damask Rose, sprung from the white and red,
3.3 Whose sweet perfume fills the all-filling air,
3.4 This Rose is withered, once so lovely fair:
3.5 On neither tree did grow such Rose before,
3.6 The greater was our gain, our loss the more.

We May Live Together

© Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.

Contemplations

© Anne Bradstreet

1 Sometime now past in the Autumnal Tide,
2 When Ph{oe}bus wanted but one hour to bed,
3 The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride,
4 Were gilded o're by his rich golden head.

A Dialogue between Old England and New

© Anne Bradstreet

New England. 1 Alas, dear Mother, fairest Queen and best,
2 With honour, wealth, and peace happy and blest,
3 What ails thee hang thy head, and cross thine arms,
4 And sit i' the dust to sigh these sad alarms?

To My Dear And Loving Husband

© Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.

Le Mort Joyeux (The Joyful Corpse)

© Charles Baudelaire

Dans une terre grasse et pleine d'escargots
Je veux creuser moi-même une fosse profonde,
Où je puisse à loisir étaler mes vieux os
Et dormir dans l'oubli comme un requin dans l'onde.

Ensilage

© James McIntyre

The farmers now should all adorn
A few fields with sweet southern corn,
It is luscious, thick and tall,
The beauty of the fields in fall.

Ego Dominus Tuus

© William Butler Yeats

Hic. On the grey sand beside the shallow stream

Under your old wind-beaten tower, where still

The Chosen Cliff.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

HERE in silence the lover fondly mused on his loved one;Gladly he spake to me thus: "Be thou my witness, thou stone!
Yet thou must not be vainglorious, thou hast many companions;Unto each rock on the plain, where I, the happy one, dwell,
Unto each tree of the wood that I cling to, as onward I ramble,'Be thou a sign of my bliss!' shout I, and then 'tis ordain'd.
Yet to thee only I lend a voice, as a Muse from the peopleChooseth one for herself, kissing his lips as a friend." 1782.

An Officer Deplores The Misery Of The Time

© Confucius

In the fourth month summer shines;
In the sixth the heat declines.
Nature thus grants men relief;
Tyranny gives only grief.
Were not my forefathers men?
Can my suffering 'scape their ken?

The Day Of Days

© Edgar Albert Guest

A year is filled with glad events:

The best is Christmas day,

Trilogy of Passion: I. TO WERTHER.

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The farewell sunbeams bless'd our ravish'd view;
Fate bade thee go,--to linger here was mine,--
Going the first, the smaller loss was thine.

Anacreon's Grave.

HERE where the roses blossom, where vines round the laurels are
twining,Where the turtle-dove calls, where the blithe cricket is heard,
Say, whose grave can this be, with life by all the ImmortalsBeauteously planted and deck'd?--Here doth Anacreon sleep
Spring and summer and autumn rejoiced the thrice-happy minstrel,And from the winter this mound kindly hath screen'd him at last. 1789.*

My Sweetest Lesbia

My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love,
And though the sager sort our deeds reprove,
Let us not weigh them. Heaven's great lamps do dive
Into their west, and straight again revive,
But soon as once set is our little light,
Then must we sleep one ever-during night.

The Stork's Vocation.

THE stork who worms and frogs devoursThat in our ponds reside,
Why should he dwell on high church-towers,With which he's not allied?Incessantly he chatters there,And gives our ears no rest;
But neither old nor young can dareTo drive him from his nest.I humbly ask it,--how can heGive of his title proof,
Save by his happy tendencyTo soil the church's roof?

The Reckoning.

LEADER.LET no cares now hover o'er usLet the wine unsparing run!
Wilt thou swell our merry chorus?Hast thou all thy duty done?SOLO.Two young folks--the thing is curious--Loved each other; yesterday
Both quite mild, to-day quite furious,Next day, quite the deuce to pay!
If her neck she there was stooping,He must here needs pull his hair.

Trilogy of Passion: II. ELEGY.

WHAT hope of once more meeting is there now
In the still-closed blossoms of this day?
Both heaven and hell thrown open seest thou;
What wav'ring thoughts within the bosom play
No longer doubt! Descending from the sky,
She lifts thee in her arms to realms on high.