Life poems
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Time and Grief
© 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)
The faint pang stealest unperceived away;
Sonnet: July 18th 1787
© 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)
The faint pang stealest unperceived away;
On a Beautiful Landscape
© William Lisle Bowles
Here is no tint of mortal change--the day
Beneath whose light the dog and peasant-boy
Gambol with look, and almost bark, of joy--
Still seems, though centuries have passed, to stay.
Then gaze again, that shadowed scenes may teach
Lessons of peace and love, beyond all speech.
XI. Written at Ostend
© 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!
In Youth
© William Lisle Bowles
Milton, our noblest poet, in the grace
Of youth, in those fair eyes and clustering hair,
That brow untouched by one faint line of care,
To mar its openness, we seem to trace
Don Rafael
© Emma Lazarus
"I would not have," he said,
"Tears, nor the black pall, nor the wormy grave,
Grief's hideous panoply I would not have
Round me when I am dead.
The Metamorphosed Gypsies (excerpt)
© Benjamin Jonson
The fairy beam upon you,
The stars to glister on you;
A moon of light
In the noon of night,
How Beauty Contrived To Get Square With The Beast
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
Miss Guinevere Platt
Was so beautiful that
The Triumph
© Benjamin Jonson
SEE the Chariot at hand here of Love,
Wherein my Lady rideth!
Each that draws is a swan or a dove,
And well the car Love guideth.
A Part of an Ode
© Benjamin Jonson
to the Immortal Memory and Friendship of that noble pair, Sir Lucius Cary and Sir H. Morison IT is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
The Missionary - Canto Third
© William Lisle Bowles
Come,--for the sun yet hangs above the bay,--
And whilst our time may brook a brief delay
The Snowdrop
© Mary Darby Robinson
The snowdrop, Winter's timid child,
Awakes to life, bedew'd with tears;
And flings around its fragrance mild,
And where no rival flow'rets bloom,
Amid the bare and chilling gloom,
A beauteous gem appears!
Epitaph On Elizabeth
© Benjamin Jonson
Wouldst thou hear what man can say
In a little? Reader, stay.
Underneath this stone doth lie
As much beauty as could die;
Which in life did harbor give
To more virture than doth live.
The Hourglass
© Benjamin Jonson
Do but consider this small dust
Here running in the glass,
By atoms moved;
Could you believe that this
Loveis that later Thing than Death
© Emily Dickinson
Loveis that later Thing than Death
More previousthan Life
Confirms it at its entranceAnd
Usurps itof itself
It Is Not Growing Like A Tree
© Benjamin Jonson
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk doth make Man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
And who shall tell what ignominy death
Has yet in store for us; what abject fears
Even for the best of us; what fights for breath;
The Camel-Rider
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
There is no thing in all the world but love,
No jubilant thing of sun or shade worth one sad tear.
Why dost thou ask my lips to fashion songs
Other than this, my song of love to thee?
Wind O' The Sea
© John Daniel Logan
Thus ruthlessly sang the wild Wind o' the Sea
That learnest soul-secrets by swift errantry.
Ah, wild Wind o' the Sea!
Ah, sad Wind o' the Sea!
That revealest the innermost being of me.
