Life poems
/ page 378 of 844 /
An Old Idea
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
STREAM of my life, dull, placid river, flow!
I have no fear of the ingulfing seas:
Neither I look before me nor behind,
But, lying mute with wave-dipped hand, float on.
God And Man
© Albert Durrant Watson
A light that twinkles in a distant star,
A wave of ocean surging on the shore,
One substance with the sea; a wing to soar
Forever onward to the peaks afar,
A soul to love, a mind to learn God's plan,
A child of the eternal–such is man.
Love
© Nicholas Breton
Foolish love is only folly;
Wanton love is too unholy;
Greedy love is covetous;
Idle love is frivolous;
But the gracious love is it
That doth prove the work of it.
Winter In Canada
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Nay tell me not that, with shivering fear,
You shrink from the thought of wintering here;
That the cold intense of our winter-time
Is severe as that of Siberian clime,
And, if wishes could waft you across the sea,
You, to-night, in your English home would be.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
SIBYLLINE BOOKS
When first, a boy, at your fair knees I kneeled,
'Twas with a worthy offering. In my hand
My young life's book I held, a volume sealed,
M. M.
© George Meredith
Who call her Mother and who calls her Wife
Look on her grave and see not Death but Life.
Ghosts Of The Old Year
© James Weldon Johnson
The snow has ceased its fluttering flight,
The wind sunk to a whisper light,
Child Of Dawn
© Harold Monro
I need thy hands, O gentle wonder-child,
For they are moulded unto all repose;
Thy lips are frail,
And thou art cooler than an April rose;
White are thy words and mild:
Child of the morning, hail!
The Right to Die
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I have no fancy for that ancient cant
That makes us masters of our destinies,
The Herb Of Grace
© Elsie Cole
Find some freckled fern seed to sprinkle in your shoes
And you may step invisible down the peopled street,
On the Lady Elizabeth, and Count Palatine Being Married on St. Valentine's Day
© John Donne
Hail Bishop Valentine, whose day this is,
All the air is thy Diocese,
The Troubadour. Canto 3
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
But sadness moved him when he gave
DE VALENCE to his lowly grave,--
The grave where the wild flowers were sleeping,
And one pale olive-tree was weeping,--
And placed the rude stone cross to show
A Christian hero lay below.
In Memoriam Matris
© Arthur Patchett Martin
IN my hot youth I rashly penned
A Sonnet of the After-life.
It was the time of stress and strife
Through which the ardent soul must wend.
The Romance Of Britomarte ~~~
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
I'll tell you a story; but pass the "jack",
And let us make merry to-night, my men.
Aye, those were the days when my beard was black -
I like to remember them now and then -
Voices Of The Night : Prelude
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Pleasant it was, when woods were green,
And winds were soft and low,
To lie amid some sylvan scene,
Where, the long drooping boughs between
Shadows dark and sunlight sheen
Alternate come and go;
The Sin
© Forough Farrokhzad
I sinned a sin full of pleasure,
In an embrace which was warm and fiery.
I sinned surrounded by arms
that were hot and avenging and iron.
In The Wood Of Finvara
© Arthur Symons
I have grown tired of sorrow and human tears;
Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears,
A naked runner lost in a storm of spears.
I have grown tired of rapture and love's desire;
Love is a flaming heart, and its flames aspire
Till they cloud the soul in the smoke of a windy fire.
Flora
© Charlotte Turner Smith
REMOTE from scenes, where the o'erwearied mind
Shrinks from the crimes and follies of mankind,
Sonnet XXXIV. Life And Death. 6.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
So, heralded by Reason, Faith may tread
The darkened vale, the dolorous paths of night,
In the great thought secure that life and light
Flow from the Soul of all, who, with the dead
