Happy poems
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The Maid O Newton
© William Barnes
In zummer, when the knaps wer bright
In cool-aïr'd evenèn's western light,
The Heather Branch
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the pale night air,
From wandering lone in the warm scented wood,
The sighing, shadowy, bright solitude
Of leafy glade, and the rough upland bare,
Our Jack
© Henry Kendall
Twelve years ago our Jack was lost. All night,
Twelve years ago, the Spirit of the Storm
Love And Beauty: II: To The Same
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Oh Soul! that this fair flower dost so mirrour,
Ask of thyself, saying-'Soul beautiful,
Oh Soul-in-love, oh happy, happy Soul,
That wert so dull and poor, and this sweet hour
The Wanderers Return
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
An old heart's mourning is a hideous thing,
And weeds upon an aged weeper cling
Like night upon a grave. The city there,
Gaunt as a woman who has once been fair,
Brave Alum Bey
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Oh, big was the bosom of brave ALUM BEY,
And also the region that under it lay,
In safety and peril remarkably cool,
And he dwelt on the banks of the river Stamboul.
Love's Seasons
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
When the bees are humming in the honeysuckle vine
And the summer days are in their bloom,
Then my love is deepest, oh, dearest heart of mine,
When the bees are humming in the honeysuckle vine.
On The Death Of The Bishop Of Ely. Anno Aet. 17. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
My lids with grief were tumid yet,
And still my sullied cheek was wet
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Dialogue I
© John Kenyon
Yet the heart vents still more indignant blame,
Where Lawgivers their sullen codes proclaim,
And idly would constrain the creed within,
As if Belief were Crime, and ToleranceSin.
A Mystery
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
They are dying! they are dying! where the golden corn is growing,
They are dying! they are dying! where the crowded herds are lowing;
They are gasping for existence where the streams of life are flowing,
And they perish of the plague where the breeze of health is blowing!
Calais, August 15, 1802
© William Wordsworth
FESTIVALS have I seen that were not names:
This is young Buonaparte's natal day,
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 4
© Publius Vergilius Maro
BUT anxious cares already seizd the queen:
She fed within her veins a flame unseen;
Nature And the Book
© Alfred Austin
I closed the book. The summer shower
In smiling dimples ebbed away,
But still on leaf, and blade, and flower,
The fallen raindrops glistening lay.
Satyr V. Verse
© Thomas Parnell
Thou soft Engager of my tender years
Divertive verse now come & ease my cares
The Russian Mind
© Vyacheslav Ivanovich Ivanov
Willful and avid mind,-
The Russian mind is dangerous as flame:
So unrestrainable, so clear,
A happy and a gloomy mind.
When The Hearse Comes Back
© James Whitcomb Riley
A thing 'at's 'bout as tryin' as a healthy man kin meet
Is some poor feller's funeral a-joggin' 'long the street:
The Cynotaph
© Richard Harris Barham
Poor Tray charmant!
Poor Tray de mon Ami!
- Dog-bury, and Vergers.
The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.
© James Beattie
I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
The Earth Laments for Day
© Henry Kendall
THERES music wafting on the air,
The evening winds are sighing
Among the treesand yonder stream
Is mournfully replying,
Lamenting loud the sunny light
That in the west is dying.
