Life poems
/ page 382 of 844 /The Gentle Hand Of Women Folks
© Edgar Albert Guest
The gentle hand of women folks
Keeps this old world in line,
Enigmas
© Pablo Neruda
I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on ahead
of human eyes, dead in those darknesses,
of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudes
on the timid globe of an orange.
Ode To Wine
© Pablo Neruda
Day-colored wine,
night-colored wine,
wine with purple feet
or wine with topaz blood,
Beachy Head
© Charlotte Turner Smith
ON thy stupendous summit, rock sublime !
That o'er the channel rear'd, half way at sea
XVII (Thinking, Tangling Shadows...)
© Pablo Neruda
Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude.
You are far away too, oh farther than anyone.
Thinking, freeing birds, dissolving images,
burying lamps.
Instability of Human Greatness
© Phineas Fletcher
Fond man, that looks on earth for happiness,
And here long seeks what here is never found!
If You Forget Me
© Pablo Neruda
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
Apparitions
© Robert Browning
Such a starved bank of moss
Till, that May-morn,
Blue ran the flash across:
Violets were born!
Experience.
© Robert Crawford
Experience is a stern pace-maker, and
'Tis on the road to wisdom, that rough way,
So many fall.
Wrongs unrepented and unpunished breed
XIII. O Time! Who Know'st a Lenient Hand to Lay...
© William Lisle Bowles
O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay
Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence,
(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense)
Stealest the long-forgotten pang away;
The Seeking Of Content
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Sweet Content, at the rich man's gate,
Called, "Wilt thou let me in?"
Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day
© William Lisle Bowles
Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to day
I journey on, yet pensive turn to view
(Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue)
The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away.
Castles In Spain. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How much of my young heart, O Spain,
Went out to thee in days of yore!
What dreams romantic filled my brain,
And summoned back to life again
The Paladins of Charlemagne,
The Cid Campeador!
Sonnet: At Ostend, July 22nd 1787
© William Lisle Bowles
How sweet the tuneful bells' responsive peal!
As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze
Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease,
So piercing to my heart their force I feel!
The Last Charge
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Now, men of the North! will you join in the strife
For country, for freedom, for honor, for life?
The giant grows blind in his fury and spite,--
One blow on his forehead will settle the fight!
Vision Of Columbus - Book 1
© Joel Barlow
Oh, lend thy friendly shroud to veil my sight,
That these pain'd eyes may dread no more the light,
These welcome shades conclude my instant doom,
And this drear mansion moulder to a tomb
The Bride.
© Robert Crawford
Her bridal dawn! her heart was fed
Last night with eerie food,
As, one by one, her lovers dead
Came in the solitude,
Sonnet: Languid, And Sad, And Slow, From Day To Day
© William Lisle Bowles
Languid, and sad, and slow, from day to day
I journey on, yet pensive turn to view
(Where the rich landscape gleams with softer hue)
The streams and vales, and hills, that steal away.