Life poems
/ page 59 of 844 /I Think Continually
© Stephen Spender
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Edward
© Caroline Norton
HEAVY is my trembling heart, mine own love, my dearest,
Heavy as the hearts whose love is poured in vain;
All the bright day I watch till thou appearest,
All the long night I dream of thee again.
Caged Skylark
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
As a dare-gale skylark scanted in a dull cage
Mans mounting spirit in his bone-house, mean house,
dwells
That bird beyond the remembering his free fells;
This in drudgery, day-labouring-out lifes age.
Sonnet 32: Morpheus The Lively Son
© Sir Philip Sidney
Morpheus the lively son of deadly sleep,
Witness of life to them that living die,
A prophet oft, and oft an history,
A poet eke, as humors fly or creep,
The Golden Light
© Sri Aurobindo
Thy golden Light came down into my brain
And the grey rooms of mind sun-touched became
A bright reply to Wisdom's occult plane,
A calm illumination and a flame.
The Sleep of Sigismund
© Jean Ingelow
The doom'd king pacing all night through the windy fallow.
'Let me alone, mine enemy, let me alone,'
Never a Christian bell that dire thick gloom to hallow,
Or guide him, shelterless, succourless, thrust from his own.
None Other Lamb
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
None other Lamb, none other Name,
None other hope in Heavn or earth or sea,
None other hiding place from guilt and shame,
None beside Thee!
The Song
© Charles Mair
Here me, ye smokeless skies and grass-green earth,
Since by your sufferance still I breathe and live!
from The Nerve Meter
© Antonin Artaud
An actor is seen as if through crystals.
Inspiration in stages.
One musnt let in too much literature.
Lonesome Place
© Langston Hughes
I got to leave this town.
Its a lonesome place.
Got to leave this town cause
Its a lonesome place.
A po, po boy cant
Find a friendly face.
Aspiration (excerpt)
© Thomas Traherne
For being freed from all defect
They feel no fleshly war,
Or rather both the flesh and mind
At length united are,
For joying in so rich a peace
They can admit no jar.
Absence
© Frances Anne Kemble
What shall I do with all the days and hours
That must be counted ere I see thy face?
The Wakeful Sleeper
© George MacDonald
When things are holding wonted pace
In wonted paths, without a trace
Or hint of neighbouring wonder,
Sometimes, from other realms, a tone,
A scent, a vision, swift, alone,
Breaks common life asunder.
Do You?
© Edgar Albert Guest
YOU pay what you owe to your neighbor, I know,
You do the square thing by your brother,
The Sleeping Beauty
© Mathilde Blind
For now the Sun had found the earth once more,
And woke the Sleeping Beauty with a kiss;
Who thrilled with light of love in every pore,
Opened her flower-blue eyes, and looked in his.
Then all things felt life fluttering at their core-
The world shook mystical in lambent bliss.
Thou Art Indeed Just, Lord
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
Sir, life upon thy cause. See, banks and brakes
Now, leav{`e}d how thick! lac{`e}d they are again
With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind shakes
Them; birds build - but not I build; no, but strain,
Time's eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.
Mine, O thou lord of life, send my roots rain.
Cottage-Songs
© George MacDonald
Close her eyes: she must not peep!
Let her little puds go slack;
Slide away far into sleep:
Sis will watch till she comes back!
Man the Monarch
© Mary Leapor
A tattling Dame, no matter where, or who;
Me it concerns not-and it need not you;
Once told this Story to the listening Muse,
Which we, as now it serves our Turn, shall use.