Happy poems
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The Discharge
© George Herbert
Busie enquiring heart, what wouldst thou know?
Why dost thou prie,
And turn, and leer, and with a licorous eye
Look high and low;
And in thy lookings stretch and grow?
The Castle Ruins
© William Barnes
A HAPPY day at Whitsuntide,
As soon s the zun begun to vall,
We all strolld up the steep hill-zide
To Meldon, gret an small;
Michael Oaktree
© Alfred Noyes
Under an arch of glorious leaves I passed
Out of the wood and saw the sickle moon
Floating in daylight o'er the pale green sea.
The Borough. Letter XI: Inns
© George Crabbe
All the comforts of life in a Tavern are known,
'Tis his home who possesses not one of his own;
And to him who has rather too much of that one,
'Tis the house of a friend where he's welcome to
The Joy To Be
© Edgar Albert Guest
Oh, mother, be you brave of heart and keep
your bright eyes shining;
Hart-Leap Well
© William Wordsworth
THE Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor
With the slow motion of a summer's cloud,
And now, as he approached a vassal's door,
"Bring forth another horse!" he cried aloud.
Gertrude, Or Fidelity Till Death
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
HER hands were clasp'd, her dark eyes rais'd,
The breeze threw back her hair;
Up to the fearful wheel she gaz'd
All that she lov'd was there.
A Psalm Of The Distant Road
© Henry Van Dyke
Happy is the man that seeth the face of a friend in a far country:
The darkness of his heart is melted in the rising of an inward joy.
Sister Songs-An Offering To Two Sisters - Part The Second
© Francis Thompson
'Tis a vision:
Yet the greeneries Elysian
He has known in tracts afar;
Thus the enamouring fountains flow,
Those the very palms that grow,
By rare-gummed Sava, or Herbalimar. -
Paradise Lost : Book I.
© John Milton
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Fragments from 'Genius Lost'
© Charles Harpur
Prelude
I SEE the boy-bard neath lifes morning skies,
While hopes bright cohorts guess not of defeat,
And ardour lightens from his earnest eyes,
And faiths cherubic wings around his being beat.
The Hunting Horn Of Chalemagne
© Caroline Norton
Heard midst the rushing of the torrent's fall,
From castled crag to roofless ruin'd hall,
Down the ravine's precipitous descent,
Thro' the wild forest's rustling boughs it went,
Upon the lake's blue bosom linger'd fond,
And faintly answer'd from the hills beyond:
Saarijarven Paavo
© Johan Ludvig Runeberg
Paavo took the good-wife´s hand and spake thus:
"Nay, the Lord but trieth, not forsaketh,
Mix thou in the bread a half of bark now,
I shall dig out twice as many ditches,
And await then from the Lord the increase.
The Sage Enamoured And The Honest Lady
© George Meredith
Our world believes it stabler if the soft
Are whipped to show the face repentance wears.
Then hear it, in a moan of atheist gloom,
Deplore the weedy growth of hypocrites;
Count Nature devilish, and accept for doom
The chasm between our passions and our wits!
Margaret
© Edith Nesbit
I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow,
Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs;
