Life poems
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The Sword Of Pain
© George Essex Evans
The Lights burn dim and make weird shadow-play,
The white walls of the ward are changed to grey,
Lady Mabel
© Alfred Austin
Side by side with Lady Mabel
Sate I, with the sunshade down;
In the distance hummed the Babel
Of the many-footed town;
There we sate with looks unstable-
Now of tenderness, of frown.
The Salt Marshes
© Peter McArthur
THERE was a light upon the sea that made
Familiar things mysterious, which to teach,
New Things Are Best
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What shall I tell you, child, in this new Sonnet?
Life's art is to forget, and last year's sowing
Cast in Time's furrow with the storm winds blowing
Bears me a wild crop with strange fancies on it.
English May
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
WOULD God your health were as this month of May
Should be, were this not England,and your face
Abner And The Widow Jones
© Robert Bloomfield
Well! I'm determin'd; that's enough:-
Gee, Bayard! move your poor old bones,
I'll take to-morrow, smooth or rough,
To go and court the Widow Jones.
The Dreams That Came True
© Jean Ingelow
I saw in a vision once, our mother-sphere
The world, her fixed foredooméd oval tracing,
Rolling and rolling on and resting never,
While like a phantom fell, behind her pacing
The unfurled flag of night, her shadow drear
Fled as she fled and hung to her forever.
The Explorer
© John Le Gay Brereton
So we soared and the earth fell away, and the region of night
Was melted in limitless day of ineffable light
Till the myriad souls of the dead were united as we,
Themselves, and yet merged in the spread of an infinite sea
The joy that is life, and around us, below and above,
The One that all lovers have found, our eternity, Love.
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book III - Rajasuya - (The Imperial Sacrifice)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
A curious incident followed the bridal of Draupadi. The five sons of
Pandu returned with her to the potter's house, where they were
Hymn XXV: Stupendous Love of God Most High!
© Charles Wesley
Stupendous love of God most high!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty;
Full of unutterable grace,
He calls the weary burdened race,
"Come all for help to me."
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LXXXII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
HE WOULD LEAD A BETTER LIFE
I am tired of folly, tired of my own ways,
Love is a strife. I do not want to strive.
If I had foes I now would make my peace.
"Behold Vale! I Said, When I Shall Con"
© William Wordsworth
"Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con
Those many records of my childish years,
Retrospect: The Jests Of The Clock
© Robert Graves
He had met hours of the clock he never guessed before-
Dumb, dragging, mirthless hours confused with dreams and fear,
Bone-chilling, hungry hours when the Gods sleep and snore,
Bequeathing earth and heaven to ghosts, and will not hear,
And will not hear man groan chained to the sodden ground,
Rotting alive; in feather beds they slumbered sound.
To A Bee
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
SMALL epicurean, would to heaven that I
Could borrow your lithe body and swift wing
To speed, a lightning atom through the sky,
The blithest courier on the winds of spring!
Supernatural Songs
© William Butler Yeats
Ribh at the Tomb of Baile and Aillinn
Because you have found me in the pitch-dark night
Before Actium.
© Robert Crawford
Life is up and takes the morning;
Why should love still lie abed?
Lo! the charms of slumber scorning,
Tramps the troop that must be led.
The Sunset Thoughts Of A Dying Child
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Friends! do you see in yon sunset sky,
That cloud of crimson bright?
Soon will its gorgeous colors die
In coming dim twilight;
Een now it fadeth ray by ray
Like it I too shall pass away!
Chalkey Hall
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, once again revive, while on my ear
The cry of Gain
And low hoarse hum of Traffic die away,
Ye blessed memories of my early day
Like sere grass wet with rain!
Once
© Trumbull Stickney
THAT day her eyes were deep as night.
She had the motion of the rose,
The bird that veers across the light,
The waterfall that leaps and throws
Its irised spindrift to the sun.
She seemed a wind of music passing on.
