Morning poems
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The Secrets Of Divine Love Are To Be Kept
© William Cowper
Sun! stay thy course, this moment stay--
Suspend the o'er flowing tide of day,
Divulge not such a love as mine,
Ah! hide the mystery divine;
Lest man, who deems my glory shame,
Should learn the secret of my flame.
The New Eden
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SCARCE could the parting ocean close,
Seamed by the Mayflowerâs cleaving bow,
When oâer the rugged desert rose
The waves that tracked the Pilgrimâs plough.
An Old Umbrella
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
AN old umbrella in the hall,
Battered and baggy, quaint and queer;
By all the rains of many a year
Bent, stained, and faded that is all.
A Pastoral in Three Parts
© John Cunningham
Philomel forsakes the thorn,
Plaintive where she prates at night:
And the lark to meet the morn,
Soars beyond the shepherd's sight.
My Heart
© George MacDonald
Night, with her power to silence day,
Filled up my lonely room,
Quenching all sounds but one that lay
Beyond her passing doom,
Where in his shed a workman gay
Went on despite the gloom.
August
© Robert Laurence Binyon
In drooping leaves of the plane
Hangs blue the early heat;
Stirless, a delicate shade
Sleeps on the parching street.
Alfred. Book VI.
© Henry James Pye
But when he views, along the tented field,
With trailing banner, and inverted shield,
Young Donald, borne by Scotia's weeping bands,
In deeper woe the generous hero stands.
The Bear-Story
© James Whitcomb Riley
THAT ALEX "IST MAKED UP HIS-OWN-SE'F"
W'y, wunst they wuz a Little Boy went out
The Kneisel Quartet
© John Jay Chapman
HAPPY the man who with steadfast devotion
Walks through the turmoil where passions are rife,
Feeding one flame of enduring emotion,
Bearing unshattered the urn of his life.
A Rejected Lover
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
You "never loved me," Ada. These slow words
Dropped softly from your gentle woman-tongue
Out of your true and kindly woman-heart,
Fell, piercing into mine like very swords
From Amorgos
© Nikos Gatsos
I
With their country tied to their sails and their oars hung on
the wind
The shipwrecked slept tamely like dead beasts on a bedding
The Daisies
© James Brunton Stephens
IN THE scented bud of the morningO,
When the windy grass went rippling far,
The Vision Of Sir Launfal
© James Russell Lowell
Sir Launfal awoke, as from a swound:-
"The Grail in my castle here is found!
Hang my idle armor up on the wall,
Let it be the spider's banquet-hall;
He must be fenced with stronger mail
Who would seek and find the Holy Grail."
The Rose
© Pierre de Ronsard
See, Mignonne, hath not the Rose,
That this morning did unclose
Her purple mantle to the light,
Lost, before the day be dead,
The glory of her raiment red,
Her colour, bright as yours is bright?
