Happy poems
/ page 97 of 254 /Present And Future
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Look, as a mother bending o'er her boy,
The sleeping boy that in her bosom lies,
Gazes upon him in a trance of joy
With earnest, infinitely tender eyes,
The Bobolinks
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
WHEN Nature had made all her birds,
With no more cares to think on,
She gave a rippling laugh, and out
There flew a Bobolinkon.
The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto V.
© Sir Walter Scott
Lord Dacre
"Forward, brave champions, to the fight!
Sound trumpets!" -
"Ah, now this happy month is gone"
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Ah, now this happy month is gone,
Not now, my heart, complain,
Nor rail at Time because so soon
He takes his own again.
Happy Solitude--Unhappy Men
© William Cowper
My heart is easy, and my burden light;
I smile, though sad, when thou art in my sight:
The more my woes in secret I deplore,
I taste thy goodness, and I love thee more.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: LXXXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
It is not true the dead unhonoured were
If they returned to life. Nay, claim thine own,
And see how gladly I, thy ``thankless heir,''
The Muses Threnodie: Sixth Muse
© Henry Adamson
From thence we passing by the Windy Gowle,
Did make the hollow rocks with echoes yowle,
And all alongst the mountains of Kinnoull,
Where did we shoot at many fox and fowl.
Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 OClock Poems)
© Nazim Hikmet
Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...
A Dialogue, intitled, The Kind Master And The Dutiful Servant
© Jupiter Hammon
Master.
Come my servant, follow me,
According to thy place;
And surely God will be with thee,
And send the heav'nly grace.
"The Undying One" - Canto IV
© Caroline Norton
On she goes, and the waves are dashing
Under her stern, and under her prow;
Oh! pleasant the sound of the waters splashing
To those who the heat of the desert know.
The Sleep Of Spring
© John Clare
O for that sweet, untroubled rest
That poets oft have sung!--
The babe upon its mother's breast,
The bird upon its young,
The heart asleep without a pain--
When shall I know that sleep again?
The Garden
© Katharine Tynan
I know a garden like a child,
Clean and new-washed and reconciled.
It grows its own sweet way, yet still
Has guidance of some tender will
That clips, confines, its wilder mood
And makes it happy, being good.
The Invitation
© Robert Bloomfield
O for the strength to paint my joy once more!
That joy I feel when Winter's reign is o'er;
At The Grave Of A Spanish Friend
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Here lies who of two mighty realms was free;
The English-Spaniard, who lived England's good
The Optimist
© James Russell Lowell
Turbid from London's noise and smoke,
Here I find air and quiet too;
Air filtered through the beech and oak,
Quiet by nothing harsher broke
Than wood-dove's meditative coo.
The Quaker Widow
© James Bayard Taylor
THEE finds me in the garden, Hannah,come in! T is kind of thee
To wait until the Friends were gone, who came to comfort me.
The still and quiet company a peace may give, indeed,
But blessed is the single heart that comes to us at need.
In Mythic Seas
© Madison Julius Cawein
'Neath saffron stars and satin skies, dark-blue,
Between dim sylvan isles, a happy two.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Poet's Tale; The Birds of Killingworth
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was the season, when through all the land
The merle and mavis build, and building sing