Morning poems
/ page 139 of 310 /The Pardah Nashin
© Sarojini Naidu
HER life is a revolving dream
Of languid and sequestered ease;
Her girdles and her fillets gleam
Like changing fires on sunset seas;
Her raiment is like morning mist,
Shot opal, gold and amethyst.
To A Happy Warrior
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Glory to God who made a man like this!
To God be praise who in the empty heaven
Set Earth's gay globe
With its green vesture given
Extracts from a Medical Poem. The Stability of Science
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I tell their fate, though courtesy disclaims
To call our kind by such ungentle names;
Yet, if your rashness bid you vainly dare,
Think of their doom, ye simple, and beware.
Indian Love Song
© Sarojini Naidu
LIKE a serpent to the calling voice of flutes,
Glides my heart into thy fingers, O my Love!
Where the night-wind, like a lover, leans above
His jasmine-gardens and sirisha-bowers;
And on ripe boughs of many-coloured fruits
Bright parrots cluster like vermilion flowers.
Over The May Hill
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
All through the night time, and all through the day time,
Dreading the morning and dreading the night,
The Roll Of The Kettledrum; Or, The Lay Of The Last Charger
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
"You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet,
Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone?
Of two such lessons, why forget
The nobler and the manlier one?" - Byron.
Coromandel Fishers
© Sarojini Naidu
Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea!
Dandelions
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Welcome children of the Spring,
In your garbs of green and gold,
Lifting up your sun-crowned heads
On the verdant plain and wold.
Sonnet LXVIII.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Written at Exmouth, Midsummer, 1795.
FALL, dews of Heaven, upon my burning breast,
Bathe with cool drops these ever-streaming eyes,
Ye gentle Winds, that fan the balmy West,
Venice
© Robert Laurence Binyon
White clouds that rose clouds chase
Till the sky laughs round, blue and bare;
Sunbeams that quivering waves out--race
To sparkle kisses on a marble stair;
It Was Just A Little While Ago
© Charles Bukowski
one shoe in the corner
standing upright
the other laying on it's
side.
Easter Morning
© Archie Randolph Ammons
I have a life that did not become,
that turned aside and stopped,
astonished:
I hold it in me like a pregnancy or
as on my lap a child
not to grow old but dwell on
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 05 - part 05
© Torquato Tasso
LXV
But yet all ways the wily witch could find
Sonnet VI "I Scarcely Grieve, O Nature! at the Lot"
© Henry Timrod
I scarcely grieve, O Nature! at the lot
That pent my life within a city's bounds,
Sonnet XXIII
© William Shakespeare
Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
The Comrade
© Edith Wharton
And I have climbed with you by hidden ways
To meet the dews of morning, and have seen
The shy gods like retreating shadows fade,
Or on the thymy reaches have surprised
Old Chiron sleeping, and have waked him not . . .
Sketches In The Exhibition
© William Lisle Bowles
How clear a strife of light and shade is spread!
The face how touched with nature's loveliest red!
The eye, how eloquent, and yet how meek!
The glow subdued, yet mantling on thy cheek!
M----ve! I mark alone thy beauteous face,
But all is nature, dignity, and grace!