Life poems
/ page 229 of 844 /They'll None of 'Em Be Missed
© William Schwenck Gilbert
As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I've got a little list - I've got a little list
Thoughts On The Cosmos
© Franklin Pierce Adams
I do not hold with him who thinks
The world is jonahed by a jinx;
That everything is sad and sour,
And life a withered hothouse flower.
Beyond The Veil
© Henry Vaughan
They are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit ling'ring here;
Catterskill Falls
© William Cullen Bryant
Midst greens and shades the Catterskill leaps,
From cliffs where the wood-flower clings;
All summer he moistens his verdant steeps
With the sweet light spray of the mountain springs;
And he shakes the woods on the mountain side,
When they drip with the rains of autumn-tide.
By the Cliffs of the Sea
© Henry Kendall
In a far-away glen of the hills,
Where the bird of the night is at rest,
Twilight
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
THERE is an evening twilight of the heart,
When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest,
And the eye see's life's fairy scenes depart,
As fades the day-beam in the rosy west.
Sonnets Of The Blood I
© Allen Tate
What is the flesh and blood compounded of
But a few moments in the life of time?
Thou Walkest With Me
© Mathilde Blind
Thou walkest with me as the spirit-light
Of the hushed moon, high o'er a snowy hill,
Walks with the houseless traveller all the night,
When trees are tongueless and when mute the rill.
Moon of my soul, O phantasm of delight,
Thou walkest with me still.
Outlaws
© Robert Graves
Owls: they whinney down the night,
Bats go zigzag by.
Ambushed in shadow out of sight
The outlaws lie.
To The Memory Of The Right Honourable Lord Talbot, Late Chancellor Of Great Britain. Addressed To Hi
© James Thomson
While with the public, you, my Lord, lament
A friend and father lost; permit the muse,
A Dialogue
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
DEATH:
For my dagger is bathed in the blood of the brave,
I come, care-worn tenant of life, from the grave,
Where Innocence sleeps 'neath the peace-giving sod,
St. Francis Of Borgia By The Coffin Of Queen Isabel
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Open the coffin and shroud until
I look on the dead again
The Sisters - A Picture By Barry
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The shade for me, but over thee
The lingering sunshine still;
As, smiling, to the silent stream
Comes down the singing rill.
Three Teachers
© Lesbia Harford
Sometimes I can see
When I teach
Half my children talk
Each to each.
The Death of Slavery
© William Cullen Bryant
O THOU great Wrong, that, through the slow-paced years,
Didst hold thy millions fettered, and didst wield
Lines Addressed To The Rev. J. T. Becher, On His Advising The Author To Mix More With Society
© George Gordon Byron
The fire in the cavern of Etna conceal'd
Still mantles unseen in its secret recess;
At length, in a volume terrific reveal'd,
No torrent can quench it, no bounds can repress.
Broken Music
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I know not in what fashion she was made,
Nor what her voice was, when she used to speak,
Nor if the silken lashes threw a shade
On wan or rosy cheek.
Lines To A Beautiful Spring In A Village
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Once more, sweet stream! with slow foot wand'ring near,
I bless thy milky waters cold and clear.
Escaped the flashing of the noontide hours,
With one fresh garland of Pierian flowers