Happy poems

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To Bessie Drennan

© Mark Doty

Bessie, you've made space dizzy
with your perfected technique for snow:
white spatters and a dry brush
feathering everything in the world

A Display Of Mackeral

© Mark Doty

They lie in parallel rows,
on ice, head to tail,
each a foot of luminosity
barred with black bands,
which divide the scales'
radiant sections

The Spring

© William Barnes

When wintry weather's all a-done,
An' brooks do sparkle in the zun,
An' naisy-builden rooks do vlee
Wi' sticks toward their elem tree;

Dead

© Ada Cambridge

"On board the Petrel, in St. Lucia's bay,

Of yellow fever-aged twenty-nine."

Here some grave Man whose head with prudence fraught
Was ne'er disturb'd by one eccentric thought,
Who without meaning rolls his leaden eyes,
And being stupid, fancies he is wise,
May with sagacious sneers my case deplore,
And urge the use of rest, and Hellebore.

The Organist

© Archibald Lampman

In his dim chapel day by day

The organist was wont to play,

The Chimney - Sweeper

© William Blake

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry "Weep! weep! weep! weep!"
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.

A Ballad of Hell

© John Davidson

'A letter from my love to-day!
Oh, unexpected, dear appeal!'
She struck a happy tear away,
And broke the crimson seal.

A Defence Of English Spring

© Alfred Austin

Unnamed, unknown, but surely bred

Where Thames, once silver, now runs lead,

Happy Dust

© Aleister Crowley

For Margot
Snow that fallest from heaven, bear me aloft on thy wings
To the domes of the star-girdled Seven, the abode of
ineffable things,

Divine Compassion

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Long since, a dream of heaven I had,

And still the vision haunts me oft;

The Borough. Letter XII: Players

© George Crabbe

DRAWN by the annual call, we now behold
Our Troop Dramatic, heroes known of old,
And those, since last they march'd, enlisted and

Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 07 - Beginnings Of Civilization

© Lucretius

Afterwards,
When huts they had procured and pelts and fire,
And when the woman, joined unto the man,
Withdrew with him into one dwelling place,

Joe Boucher

© William Henry Drummond

Air--"Car si mon moine."

Sexegesima Sunday

© John Keble

Foe of mankind! too bold thy race:
Thou runn'st at such a reckless pace,
Thine own dire work thou surely wilt confound:
'Twas but one little drop of sin
We saw this morning enter in,
And lo! at eventide the world is drowned.

daughter

leaves and leaving call october home
her daughter releases wood
smoke from her skin
rich in scorpio

Unlearning

WHEN I was young my heart was old,
My heart was rich and very wise:
Now all its wisdom has been told
And all its wealth is fairy gold
And all its joy futilities.