Morning poems
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The Day Of The Daughter Of Hades
© George Meredith
He tells it, who knew the law
Upon mortals: he stood alive
Declaring that this he saw:
He could see, and survive.
In 1969
© Larry Levis
Some called it the Summer of Love, & although the clustered,
Motionless leaves that overhung the streets looked the same
As ever, the same as they did every summer, in 1967,
Anybody with three dollars could have a vision.
St. George
© Emile Verhaeren
Opening the mists on a sudden through,
An Avenue!
Then, all one ferment of varied gold,
With foam of plumes where the chamfrom bends
Round his horse's head, that no bit doth hold,
St. George descends!
PARADOX. That it is best for a Young Maid to marry an Old Man
© Henry King
Fair one, why cannot you an old man love?
He may as useful, and more constant prove.
Experience shews you that maturer years
Are a security against those fears
The Foolish Old Man
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
All silent he for a year and a day
All lone with his rage and sorrow,
Then he spoke his wrath, "Too long I stay,
I will seek their roof to-morrow."
Song Of The Bell. (From The German)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Bell! thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell! thou soundest solemnly.
When, on Sabbath morning,
Fields deserted lie!
Antiphon
© George MacDonald
Daylight fades away.
Is the Lord at hand
In the shadows gray
Stealing on the land?
August
© Boris Pasternak
This was its promise, held to faithfully:
The early morning sun came in this way
Until the angle of its saffron beam
Between the curtains and the sofa lay,
St. Philip And St. James
© John Keble
Dear is the morning gale of spring,
And dear th' autumnal eve;
But few delights can summer bring
A Poet's crown to weave.
The Beggar Maid
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
All on a golden morning the beggar maid did go
To gather branch and berry, the hazel-nut and sloe.
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 8
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Turnus had assembled all his powrs,
His standard planted on Laurentums towrs;
Ode
© Frances Anne Kemble
With lighter toil than that of brain or heart,
In the sweet pause of outward life takes part;
And hope, and fear,desire, love, joy, and sorrow,
Wait, 'neath sleep's downy wings, the coming morrow.
Peace upon earth, profoundest peace in heaven,
Praises the God of Peace, by whom 'tis given.
After Sunset
© Harriet Monroe
The forest was a shrine for her,
A temple richly dressed;
And worshippers the tall trees were,
Each to his prayer addressed.
Scarce dared I lift my eyes, or stir,
So deeply was I blessed.
Evangeline: Part The Second. III.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
NEAR to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by oaks, from whose branches
Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe flaunted,
The City (2)
© Archibald Lampman
Canst thou not rest, O city,
That liest so wide and fair;
Shall never an hour bring pity,
Nor end be found for care?
Market Day
© John Clare
With arms and legs at work and gentle stroke
That urges switching tail nor mends his pace,
The Demon Of The Study
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Brownie sits in the Scotchman's room,
And eats his meat and drinks his ale,
And beats the maid with her unused broom,
And the lazy lout with his idle flail;
But he sweeps the floor and threshes the corn,
And hies him away ere the break of dawn.
