Morning poems
/ page 130 of 310 /Rural Sports: A Georgic - Canto I.
© John Gay
But when the sun displays his glorious beams,
And shallow rivers flow with silver streams,
Then the deceit the scaly breed survey,
Bask in the sun, and look into the day.
You now a more delusive art must try,
And tempt their hunger with the curious fly.
Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - Pastorale
© Oliver Goldsmith
CHORUS. -- AFFETTUOSO. -- LARGO.
Ye shady walks, ye waving greens,
Ye nodding towers, ye fairy scenes --
Let all your echoes now deplore
That she who form'd your beauties is no more.
Sausage
© Edgar Albert Guest
You may brag about your breakfast foods you eat at break of day,
Your crisp, delightful shavings and your stack of last year's hay,
An Evening Walk
© William Wordsworth
Addressed To A Young Lady
FAR from my dearest Friend, 'tis mine to rove
Home, Wounded
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Wheel me into the sunshine,
Wheel me into the shadow,
There must be leaves on the woodbine,
Is the king-cup crowned in the meadow?
The Lord of the Isles: Canto III.
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Hast thou not mark'd, when o'er thy startled head
At The Last Watch
© Rabindranath Tagore
Suddenly I found you had left behind by mistake
Your gold-mounted ivory walking stick.
If there were time, I thought,
You might come back from the station to look for it,
But not because
You had not seen me before going away.
"The Undying One" - Canto II
© Caroline Norton
'Neath these, and many more than these, my arm
Hath wielded desperately the avenging steel--
And half exulting in the awful charm
Which hung upon my life--forgot to feel!
The Seven Isles
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I dream of western waters, and of the Seven Isles,
And of mornings when they appear
Flowering out of the mist on a sea of smiles,
Warm and familiar and near.
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter V
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Griselda's madness lasted forty days,
Forty eternities! Men went their ways,
And suns arose and set, and women smiled,
And tongues wagged lightly in impeachment wild
My Birthday
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Beneath the moonlight and the snow
Lies dead my latest year;
The winter winds are wailing low
Its dirges in my ear.
To The Painted Columbine
© Jones Very
Bright image of the early years
When glowed my cheek as red as thou,
And life's dark throng of cares and fears
Were swift-winged shadows o'er my sunny brow!
Widderins Race. Australian.
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"A HORSE amongst ten thousand! on the verge,
The extremest verge of equine life he stands;
Yet mark his action, as those wild young colts
Freed from the stock-yard gallop whinnying up;
See how he trots towards them,--nose in air,
Tail arched, and his still sinewy legs out-thrown
Accolon Of Gaul: Part I
© Madison Julius Cawein
"Will love grow less when dead the roguish Spring,
Who from gay eyes sowed violets whispering;
Peach petals in wild cheeks, wan-wasted thro'
Of withering grief, laid lovely 'neath the dew,
Will love grow less?
Evening
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
WHEN the white iris folds the drowsing bee,
When the first cricket wakes
The Last Battle Of The Cid
© Ada Cambridge
Low he lay upon his dying couch, the knight without a stain,
The unconquered Cid Campeadór, the bright breastplate of Spain,
The incarnate honour of Castille, of Aragon and Navarre,
Very crown of Spanish chivalry, Rodrigo of Bivar!
O Spirit of the Living God
© James Montgomery
O Spirit of the living God,
In all Thy plenitude of grace,
Whereer the foot of man hath trod,
Descend on our apostate race.
The Sunjust touched the Morning
© Emily Dickinson
The Sunjust touched the Morning
The MorningHappy thing
Supposed that He had come to dwell
And Life would all be Spring!
The Killing
© Edwin Muir
I was a stranger, could not read these people
Or this outlandish deity. Did a God
Indeed in dying cross my life that day
By chance, he on his road and I on mine?