Life poems
/ page 526 of 844 /Sonnet XXV. The Seceders 2.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
YET what were love, and what were toil and thought,
And what were life, bereft of Poesy?
Who lingers in a garden where the bee
By no rich beds of fragrant flowers is caught
The Unattainable
© Madison Julius Cawein
Mark thou! a shadow crowned with fire of hell.
Man holds her in his heart as night doth hold
The moonlight memories of day's dead gold;
Or as a winter-withered asphodel
In its dead loveliness holds scents of old.
And looking on her, lo, he thinks 'tis well.
Storm-Music
© Henry Van Dyke
Now an interval of quiet
For a moment holds the air
In the breathless hush
Of a silent prayer.
Pharsalia - Book VIII: Death Of Pompeius
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Hard the task imposed;
Yet doffed his robe, and swift obeyed, the king
Wrapped in a servant's mantle. If a Prince
For safety play the boor, then happier, sure,
The peasant's lot than lordship of the world.
The Captive
© John Blight
This toil-free moment moves me to dissent
there are no hours of freedom, since the mind
Sonnet XCV: The Vase of Life
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Around the vase of Life at your slow pace
He has not crept, but turned it with his hands,
Kismet
© Virna Sheard
Love came to her unsought,
Love served her many ways,
And patiently Love followed her
Throughout the nights and days.
The Test
© Katharine Tynan
Love has moods: and I am cold,
Very cold ofttimes to Thee;
Fain to slip from Thy dear hold
To my follies and be free.
The Fountain
© William Wordsworth
We talked with open heart, and tongue
Affectionate and true,
A pair of friends, though I was young,
And Matthew seventy-two.
Life And Death.
© Robert Crawford
We come like bats that out of a dark cave
Have suddenly been scared into the day,
Blear-eyed and vexed as here and there they flap,
Unnatural denizens of such a world.
I Have a Terrible Cold
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
Goodbye for ever, queen of fairies!
Your wings were made of sun, and I am walking here.
I shan't get well unless I go and lie down on my bed.
I never was well except lying down on the Universe.
The Unknown Country
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
WHERE is the unknown country?"
I whispered sad and slow,--
"The strange and awful country
To which I soon must go, must go,
To which I soon must go?"
HMS Pinafore: Act II
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Same Scene. Night. Awning removed. Moonlight. Captain
discovered singing on poop deck, and accompanying himself on
a mandolin. Little Buttercup seated on quarterdeck, gazing
sentimentally at him.
To the Reverend George Coleridge, of Ottery St. Mary, Devon
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A blessed lot hath he, who having past
His youth and early manhood in the stir
And turmoil of the world, retreats at length,
With cares that move, not agitate the heart,
And In Wonder And Amazement I Sing -- English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
The sky is full of the sun and the stars
The universe is full of life