Morning poems
/ page 116 of 310 /Mattens
© George Herbert
I cannot ope mine eyes,
But thou art ready there to catch
My morning-soul and sacrifice:
Then we must needs for that day make a match.
Praeceptor Amat
© Henry Timrod
How little I care
For your favorites, see! they are all of them, look!
On the spot where they fell, and - but here is your book!
Freedom
© Archibald Lampman
Out of the heart of the city begotten
Of the labour of men and their manifold hands,
Whose souls, that were sprung from the earth in her morning,
No longer regard or remember her warning,
Whose hearts in the furnace of care have forgotten
Forever the scent and the hue of her lands;
A Christmas Hymn
© Joseph Furphy
The Seraph-song of morning's prime
That hail'd Messiah's birth,
The charter of a coming time
When Love shall rule the earth,
Rings from yon far Judaean hill
Toomai of the Elephants
© Rudyard Kipling
I will remember what I was. I am sick of rope and chain-
I will remember my old strength and all my forest-affairs.
I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugarcane.
I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.
Morning
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O GRACIOUS breath of sunrise! divine air!
That brood'st serenely o'er the purpling hills;
O blissful valleys! nestling, cool and fair,
In the fond arms of yonder murmurous rills,
Hymn For A Sick Girl
© George MacDonald
Father, in the dark I lay,
Thirsting for the light,
Helpless, but for hope alway
In thy father-might.
The Song Of Hiawatha XXII: Hiawatha's Departure
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O'er the water floating, flying,
Something in the hazy distance,
Something in the mists of morning,
Loomed and lifted from the water,
Now seemed floating, now seemed flying,
Coming nearer, nearer, nearer.
Second Sunday After Easter
© John Keble
O for a sculptor's hand,
That thou might'st take thy stand,
Thy wild hair floating on the eastern breeze,
Thy tranced yet open gaze
Fixed on the desert haze,
As one who deep in heaven some airy pageant sees.
Quatrains Of Life
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?
The Torrent
© Mathilde Blind
OH torrent, roaring in thy giant fall,
And thund'ring grandly o'er th' opposing blocks,
The Blessed Day
© Louisa May Alcott
"What shall little children bring
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day?
Five Little Toes In The Morning
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
This little toe is hungry-
This little toe is too,
This toe lies abed like a sleepy head,
And this toe cries "Boo-hoo."
This toe big and tall is the smartest of all
For he pops into stocking and shoe.
Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Sonnet. "If in thy heart the spring of joy remains"
© Frances Anne Kemble
If in thy heart the spring of joy remains,
All beauteous things, being reflected there,
Quatrains
© James Benjamin Kenyon
YON clouds that roam the deserts of the air,
On wind-swift barbs, oer many an azure plain,
Scarce pause to lift to Allah one small prayer,
Ere Ishmaels spirit drives them forth again.