Morning poems

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The Wind-Child

© Enid Derham

MY FOLKS the wind-folk, its there I belong,

I tread the earth below them, and the earth does me wrong,

Oh the tear is in my eye, and my heart it is breaking,
Thou hast fled from me, Connor, and left me forsaken;
Bright and warm was our morning, but soon has it faded,
For I gave thee a true heart, and thou hast betrayed it.

The Souls' Rising

© George MacDonald

See! see in yonder misty cloud
One whirlwind sweep, and we shall hear
The voice that waxes yet more loud
And louder still approaching near!

The Foredawn Hour

© John Payne

I

BETWEEN the night-end and the break of day

A Word In Season

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

THIS is a day the Lord hath made."--Thus spake
The good religious heart, unstained, unworn,
Watching the golden glory of the morn.--
Since, on each happy day that came to break

The Cloud Messenger - Part 04

© Kalidasa

The slender young woman who is there would be the premier creation by the
Creator in the sphere of women, with fine teeth, lips like a ripe bimba fruit, a
slim waist, eyes like a startled gazelles, a deep navel, a gait slow on account
of the weight of her hips, and who is somewhat bowed down by her breasts.

Home 2

© Edward Thomas

Fair was the morning, fair our tempers, and
We had seen nothing fairer than that land,
Though strange, and the untrodden snow that made
Wild of the tame, casting out all that was
Not wild and rustic and old; and we were glad.

Bulb Planting Time

© Edgar Albert Guest

Last night he said the dead were dead

And scoffed my faith to scorn;

Rural Sports: A Georgic - Canto II.

© John Gay

Now, sporting muse, draw in the flowing reins,

Leave the clear streams a while for sunny plains.

The Land Of Pallas

© Archibald Lampman

Methought I journeyed along ways that led for ever
Throughout a happy land where strife and care were dead,
And life went by me flowing like a placid river
Past sandy eyots where the shifting shoals make head.

Maker of Heaven and Earth [All things bright and beautiful]

© Cecil Frances Alexander

All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,

The Ballad Of Boh Da Thone

© Rudyard Kipling

This is the ballad of Boh Da Thone,
Erst a Pretender to Theebaw's throne,
Who harried the district of Alalone:
How he met with his fate and the V.P.P.
At the hand of Harendra Mukerji,
Senior Gomashta, G.B.T.

Town And Country

© Edith Nesbit

THE Sun tells to Trafalgar Square
His old and radiant story,
And touches in the young spring air
The pepper-pots to glory.

Hymns to the Night : 2

© Novalis

Must the morning always return? Will the despotism of the earthly never cease? Unholy activity consumes the angel-visit of the Night

The Foray Of Con ODonnell. A.D. 1495

The evening shadows sweetly fall

Along the hills of Donegal,

Verses by Lady Geralda

© Anne Brontë

Its sound was music then to me;
Its wild and lofty voice
Made by heart beat exultingly
And my whole soul rejoice.

Aneurin's Harp

I

Prince of Bards was old Aneurin;

Fragment XI

The boat is broken in twain by the
waves. Armor plunges into the sea, to
rescue his Daura or die. Sudden a blast
from the hill comes over the waves.
He sunk, and he rose no more.