Morning poems

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The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto III

© Richard Savage

Ye traytors, tyrants, fear his stinging lay!
Ye pow'rs unlov'd, unpity'd in decay!
But know, to you sweet-blossom'd Fame he brings,
Ye heroes, patriots, and paternal kings!

The Common Touch

© Edgar Albert Guest

I would not be too wiseso very wise

That I must sneer at simple songs and creeds,

The work has been going forward with the greatest difficulty, chiefly because I cannot concentrate. I have no feeling about whether what I am writing is good or bad, and the whole business is totally without excitement and pleasure for me. And I am sure I know the reason. It’s that I can’t stand leaving unresolved my situation with Pat. I hear from her fairly frequently, asking when I plan to come back, and she knows that I am supposed to appear at the poetry reading in the middle of January. It is not mainly loneliness I feel, though I feel it; but I have been lonely before. It is quite frankly the feeling that nothing is really settled between us, and that in the mean time I worry about how things are going to work out. This has made my work more difficult than it has ever been before.

Out Of The Depths: Written After The Reformation Of A Brilliant And Talented Man

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Out of the midnight, rayless and cheerless,

Into the morning's golden light;

Lancelot And Elaine

© Alfred Tennyson

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

R.b.

© Aubrey Herbert

It was April we left Lemnos, shining sea and snow-white camp,
Passing onward into darkness. Lemnos shone a golden lamp,
As a low harp tells of thunder, so the lovely Lemnos air
Whispered of the dawn and battle; and we left a comrade there.

Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto III

© Samuel Butler

What made thee, when they all were gone,
And none but thou and I alone,
To act the Devil, and forbear
To rid me of my hellish fear?

Leonainie

© James Whitcomb Riley

Leonainie--Angels named her;

And they took the light

The Story, Around the Corner

© Naomi Shihab Nye

is not turning the way you thought

it would turn, gently, in a little spiral loop,

Lines written under the conviction that it is not wise to read Mathematics in November after one’s fire is out

© James Clerk Maxwell

In the sad November time,

When the leaf has left the lime,

Beyond The Potomac

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

THEY slept on the field which their valor had won,
But arose with the first early blush of the sun,
For they knew that a great deed remained to be done,
When they passed o'er the river.

A Phenomenal Fauna

© Carolyn Wells

THE REG'LAR LARK

The Troubadour. Canto 4

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

But he was safe!--that very day
Farewell, it had been her's to say;
And he was gone to his own land,
To seek another maiden's hand.

I Genitori Perduti

The dove-white gulls

on the wet lawn in Washington Square

A Poem Beginning with a Line by Pindar

I
The light foot hears you and the brightness begins
god-step at the margins of thought,
quick adulterous tread at the heart.

The Envoy of Mr. Cogito

let your sister Scorn not leave you
for the informers executioners cowards—they will win
they will go to your funeral and with relief will throw a lump of earth
the woodborer will write your smoothed-over biography

Mrs. Benjamin Pantier

I know that he told that I snared his soul

With a snare which bled him to death.

The Nymph Complaining for the Death of her Fawn

I in a golden vial will
Keep these two crystal tears, and fill
It till it do o’erflow with mine,
Then place it in Diana’s shrine.

© Jane Kenyon

A second crop of hay lies cut
and turned. Five gleaming crows
search and peck between the rows.
They make a low, companionable squawk,
and like midwives and undertakers
possess a weird authority.