Morning poems

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Ζωές (Lives)

© Kostas Karyotakis

And so they go and die the same way they live.
I speak of lives given to the light
of serene love, and while they flow
like streams, they keep that light inside

The troops of ALMAGRO and ALPHONSO meet on the plain of CUZCO -. MANCO -CAPAC attacks them by nights-His army is defeated, and he is forced to fly with its scattered remains-CORA goes in search of him- Her infant in her arms-Overcome with fatigue, she rests at the foot of a mountain-An earthquake-A band of Indians fly to the mountain for shelter-CORA discovers her husband-Their interview-Her death -He escapes with his infant-ALMAGRO claims a share of the spoils of Cuzco-His contention with PIZARRO -The Spaniards destroy each other-ALMAGRO is taken prisoner, and put to death-His soldiers, in revenge, assassinate PIZARRO in his palace-LAS CASAS dies-The annual festival of the PERUVIANS -Their victories over the Spaniards in Chili-A wish for the restoration of their liberty-Conclusion.

The Last Tournament

© Alfred Tennyson

To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'

London - in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal

© Samuel Johnson

'--Quis ineptae

Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?' ~ Juv.

The Little HandMaiden

© Archibald Lampman

The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!

The Advice Of Treachery

© Leon Gellert

This well-feigned trance, this still and
stupored sleep
is aptly timed, and nobly fits the scheme.
The cloud-encircled Sword with Night may creep

The Death Of President Lincoln

© Joseph Furphy

Now let the howling tempest roar
For Booth can feel its force no more;
Now let the captors bend their steel
Against the form that cannot feel
Their tyranny has spent its hour
And Booth is far beyond their power.

In Memory Of Douglas Vernon Cow

© Muriel Stuart

To twilight heads comes Death as comes a friend.
As with the gentle fading of the year
Fades rose, folds leaf, falls fruit, and to their end
Unquestioning draw near,
Their flowering over, and their fruiting done,
Fulfilled and finished and going down with the sun.

It Was Not Once

© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev

It was not only once, it will go this way,
In our fight, which is deaf and destroying:
As it happened before, you rebuffed me today
To return, like a slave, by the morning.

Dreading

© Edgar Albert Guest

SOMETIMES when they are tucked in bed the gentle mother comes to me
And talks about each curly head, and wonders what they're going to be.
She tells about the fun they've had while I was toiling far away,
Recalls the bright things that the lad and little girl have had to say.
Each morning is a pleasure new, and gladness overflows the cup,
And then she says: "What will we do, what will we do when they're grown up?"

Thoughts Of Christmas-Day In India

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

IT is Christmas, and the sunshine
Lies golden on the fields,
And flowers of white and purple
Yonder fragrant creeper yields.

The Dance Of The Seven Sins

© Arthur Symons

THE STAGE-MANAGER
It is. Each morning that decays
To midnight ends the world as well,
For the world's day, as that farewell
When, at the ultimate judgment-Stroke,
Heaven too shall vanish in pale smoke.

A Convict's Lament on the Death of Captain Logan

© Anonymous

I am a native of the land of Erin,
and lately banished from that lovely shore;
I left behind my aged parents

The Botanic Garden (Part IV)

The Economy Of Vegetation

Canto IV

The North Sea Patrol

Where the East wind is brewed fresh and fresh every morning,
And the balmy night-breezes blow straight from the Pole,
I heard a Destroyer sing: "What an enjoya-
ble life does one lead on the North Sea Patrol!

Phil-O-Rum's Canoe

O Ma ole canoe! w'at's matter wit' you,

an' w'y was you be so slow?

Rachel

When Jacob and Rachel met for the first time,
He bowed to her like a humble wayfarer.
The herds were raising hot dust to the skies,
The little well's mouth was covered by a boulder.
He rolled the old boulder away from the well
And watered the flock with clean water himself.