Happy poems
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They Shall Not Know
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
When thou art happy, thou dear heart of pleasure,
Because men love thee and the feasts are spread,
And Fortune in thy lap has poured her treasure,
And Spring is there and roses crown thy head,
A Valentine
© James Russell Lowell
Let others wonder what fair face
Upon their path shall shine,
And, fancying half, half hoping, trace
Some maiden shape of tenderest grace
To be their Valentine.
The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XX: Ellen Orford
© George Crabbe
"No charms she now can boast,"--'tis true,
But other charmers wither too:
You Men
© Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz
(Español)
Hombres necios que acusáis
a la mujer sin razón,
sin ver que sois la ocasión
de lo mismo que culpáis:
The Rwose In The Dark
© William Barnes
In zummer, leäte at evenèn tide,
I zot to spend a moonless hour
'Ithin the window, wi' the zide
A-bound wi' rwoses out in flow'r,
Bezide the bow'r, vorsook o' birds,
An' listen'd to my true-love's words.
The Joys We Miss
© Edgar Albert Guest
There never comes a lonely day but that we miss the laughing ways
Of those who used to walk with us through all our happy yesterdays.
We seldom miss the earthly great-the famous men that life has known-
But, as the years go racing by, we miss the friends we used to own.
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book V - Pativrata-Mahatmya - (Woman's Love)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The great _rishi_ Vyasa came to visit Yudhishthir, and advised Arjun,
great archer as he was, to acquire celestial arms by penance and
worship. Arjun followed the advice, met the god SIVA in the guise
of a hunter, pleased him by his prowess in combat, and obtained his
blessings and the _pasupata_ weapon. Arjun then went to INDRA'S
heaven and obtained other celestial arms.
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Fourth
© William Wordsworth
'Tis night: in silence looking down,
The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees
A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,
And Castle, like a stately crown
The Loving Shepherdess
© Robinson Jeffers
She dreamed that a two-legged whiff of flame
Rose up from the house gable-peak crying, "Oh! Oh!"
And doubled in the middle and fled away on the wind
Like music above the bee-hives.
The Lily
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
VIEW us, white-robed lilies,
We whose beauty's rareness
Sleeps until the bridegroom sun
Woos our virgin fairness.
The Poet's Dead
© Mikhail Lermontov
He's slain - and taken by the grave
Like that unknown, but happy bard,
Victim of jealousy wild,
Of whom he sang with wondrous power,
Struck down, like him, by an unyielding hand.
Nuremberg
© Kenneth Slessor
So quiet it was in that high, sun-steeped room,
So warm and still, that sometimes with the light
Through the great windows, bright with bottle-panes,
Thered float a chime from clock-jacks out of sight,
Clapping iron mallets on green copper gongs.
Satyr I. A Letter To A Friend. On Poets.
© Thomas Parnell
Poets are bound by ye severest rules,
the great ones must be mad, ye little all are fools,
Septuagesima Sunday
© John Keble
There is a book, who runs may read,
Which heavenly truth imparts,
And all the lore its scholars need,
Pure eyes and Christian hearts.
The Wild Rose And The Snowdrop
© George Meredith
The Snowdrop is the prophet of the flowers;
It lives and dies upon its bed of snows;
Christmas
© Henry Timrod
How grace this hallowed day?
Shall happy bells, from yonder ancient spire,
Send their glad greetings to each Christmas fire
Round which the children play?
At The Papyrus Club
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
He 's lost his mother--so he cries--
And here he knows he'll find her:
The rogue! 't is but a new device,--
Look out for flying arrows
Whene'er the birds of Paradise
Are perched amid the sparrows!
On The Progress Of The Soul...
© John Donne
Forget this rotten world, and unto thee
Let thine own times as an old story be.
Telepathy
© James Russell Lowell
'And how could you dream of meeting?'
Nay, how can you ask me, sweet?
All day my pulse had been beating
The tune of your coming feet.
