Morning poems
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Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."
Along The Stream
© Madison Julius Cawein
Where the violet shadows brood
Under cottonwoods and beeches,
Through whose leaves the restless reaches
Of the river glance, I've stood,
While the red-bird and the thrush
Set to song the morning hush.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Interlude IV.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When the long murmur of applause
That greeted the Musician's lay
When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d
© Walt Whitman
1
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
The Cloud Confines
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The day is dark and the night
To him that would search their heart;
Persimmons
© Li-Young Lee
In sixth grade Mrs. Walker
slapped the back of my head
and made me stand in the corner
for not knowing the difference
between persimmon and precision.
How to choose
Irish Poetry
© Billy Collins
That morning under a pale hood of sky
I heard the unambiguous scrape of spackling
against the side of our wickered, penitential house.
Fox Sleep
© William Stanley Merwin
On a road through the mountains with a friend many years ago
I came to a curve on a slope where a clear stream
from The Task, Book V: The Winter Morning Walk
© William Cowper
(excerpt)
’Tis morning; and the sun with ruddy orb
Hannah
© Thomas Parnell
Then Seek ye Subject & its song be mine
Whose numbers next in Sacred story shine;
Go brightly-working thought, prepard to fly
Above ye page on hov'ring pinnions ly,
& beat with stronger force to make thee rise
Where beautious Hannah meets ye searching eyes.
Ode Read At The One Hundreth Anniversary Of The Fight At Concord Bridge
© James Russell Lowell
I
Who cometh over the hills,
The Country Whore
© Cesare Pavese
It often returns, in the slow rise from sleep,
that undone aroma of far-off flowers,
of barns and of sun. No man can know
the subtle caress of that sour memory.
No man can see, beyond that sprawled body,
that childhood passed in such clumsy anxiety.
Coole Park 1929
© William Butler Yeats
I MEDITATE upon a swallow's flight,
Upon a aged woman and her house,
from The Vanity of Human Wishes
© Henry James Pye
Yet still one genral cry the skies assails,
And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
Few know the toiling statesmans fear or care,
Th insidious rival and the gaping heir.
How Fair Cinderella Disposed Of Her Shoe
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
The Moral: All the girls on earth
Exaggerate their proper worth.
They think the very shoes they wear
Are worth the average millionaire;
Whereas few pairs in any town
Can be half-sold for half a crown!
The Bounty
© Derek Walcott
Between the vision of the Tourist Board and the true
Paradise lies the desert where Isaiah’s elations
force a rose from the sand. The thirty-third canto
