Life poems
/ page 398 of 844 /
Suttee
© Sarojini Naidu
LAMP of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . .
Love, must I dwell in the living dark?
To A Happy Warrior
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Glory to God who made a man like this!
To God be praise who in the empty heaven
Set Earth's gay globe
With its green vesture given
A Little Boys Vain Regret
© Edith Matilda Thomas
HE was six years old, just six that day,
And I saw he had something important to say
Life
© Sarojini Naidu
CHILDREN, ye have not lived, to you it seems
Life is a lovely stalactite of dreams,
Or carnival of careless joys that leap
About your hearts like billows on the deep
In flames of amber and of amethyst.
Extracts from a Medical Poem. The Stability of Science
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I tell their fate, though courtesy disclaims
To call our kind by such ungentle names;
Yet, if your rashness bid you vainly dare,
Think of their doom, ye simple, and beware.
In Salutation to the Eternal Peace
© Sarojini Naidu
Men say the world is full of fear and hate,
And all life's ripening harvest-fields await
The restless sickle of relentless fate.
The Roll Of The Kettledrum; Or, The Lay Of The Last Charger
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
"You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet,
Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone?
Of two such lessons, why forget
The nobler and the manlier one?" - Byron.
Harvest Hymn
© Sarojini Naidu
Lord of the rainbow, lord of the harvest,
Great and beneficent lord of the main!
Thine is the mercy that cherished our furrows,
Alabaster
© Sarojini Naidu
LIKE this alabaster box whose art
Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart,
Carven with delicate dreams and wrought
With many a subtle and exquisite thought.
Dandelions
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Welcome children of the Spring,
In your garbs of green and gold,
Lifting up your sun-crowned heads
On the verdant plain and wold.
A Night-Piece On Death
© Thomas Parnell
Those Graves, with bending Osier bound,
That nameless heave the crumbled Ground,
Quick to the glancing Thought disclose
Where Toil and Poverty repose.
Thoughts of Phena at the News of Her Death
© Thomas Hardy
Not a line of her writing have I
Not a thread of her hair,
Still
© Archie Randolph Ammons
but though I have looked everywhere,
I can find nothing
to give myself to:
everything is
Easter Morning
© Archie Randolph Ammons
I have a life that did not become,
that turned aside and stopped,
astonished:
I hold it in me like a pregnancy or
as on my lap a child
not to grow old but dwell on
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =Fourth Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
CIC. I do not believe that he makes a comparison, nor puts as the same
kind the divine and the human mode of comprehending, which are very
diverse, but as to the subject they are the same.
Inextinguibles (Immutable)
© Delmira Agustini
¡Oh, tú que duermes tan hondo que no despiertas!
Milagrosas de vivas, milagrosas de muertas,
Y por muertas y vivas eternamente abiertas,
Ode for Memorial Day
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
DONE are the toils and the wearisome marches,
Done is the summons of bugle and drum.
Night
© James Montgomery
Night is the time for rest;
How sweet, when labors close,
To gather round an aching breast
The curtain of repose,
Stretch the tired limbs, and lay the head
Down on our own delightful bed!
Address To The Scholars Of The Village School Of ---
© William Wordsworth
Mourn, Shepherd, near thy old grey stone;
Thou Angler, by the silent flood;
And mourn when thou art all alone,
Thou Woodman, in the distant wood!
