Morning poems
/ page 109 of 310 /
Upper Austria
© John Kenyon
And he had comment, full and clear,
The fruit of many a travelled year;
But more, by meditation brought
From inner depths of silent thought;
Or fresh from fountain, never dry,
Of undisturbed humanity.
Early One Morning
© Edward Thomas
Early one morning in May I set out,
And nobody I knew was about.
I'm bound away for ever,
Away somewhere, away for ever.
The North Sea -- Second Cycle
© Heinrich Heine
The waves are murmuring, the sea-gulls crying,
Wafts of old memories over me steal,
Old dreams long forgotten, old visions long vanished,
Sweet and torturing, rise from the deep..
The Marchioness Of Brinvilliers
© Herman Melville
He toned the sprightly beam of morning
With twilight meek of tender eve,
A Morning Exercise
© William Wordsworth
Through border wilds where naked Indians stray,
Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;
A feathered task-master cries, "WORK AWAY!"
And, in thy iteration, "WHIP POOR WILL!"
Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave,
Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave.
A Song Of Riches
© Katharine Lee Bates
Gift, a gift for a barefoot lass,
O twilight hour of dreams!
Rest, bare feet, by my lake of glass,
Where the mirrored sunset gleams.
The Battle of Sempach
© Sir Walter Scott
'Twas when among our linden-trees
The bees had housed in swarms,
(And grey-hair'd peasants say that these
Betoken foreign arms),
The Silent Singer
© Alma Frances McCollum
(Eugene Field)
THE lights are all low, for the sun's in the west,
The Plate Of Gold
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
One day there fell in great Benares' temple-court
A wondrous plate of gold, whereon these words were writ;
"To him who loveth best, a gift from Heaven."
Thereat.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
The Fountain Of Youth
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
READ AT THE MEETING OF THE HARVARD ALUMNI
ASSOCIATION, JUNE 25, 1873
Garden
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O painter of the fruits and flowers,
We own wise design,
Where these human hands of ours
May share work of Thine!
The Man of Sentiment
© Kenneth Slessor
Part One
[A walled garden of York. It is an August Sunday, and the baying of deep church-bells is blown faintly in a warm wind. Laurence Sterne, prebendary, aged forty-six, and Catherine de Fromantel, a girl who sings at Ranelagh, are dawdling through the arbours, and pause at a path which runs between hedges and cypress-trees round a corner some fifty yards away. Catherine has walked down such a path before, it is to be feared, and halts cautiously upon its fringes.]
Laurence:
Nay, 'tis no Devil's walk,
Peter Bell The Third
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.
