Morning poems
/ page 166 of 310 /
Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
© André Breton
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
Ode
© David Lehman
People in the middle ages didn't think they were living
Between two more important and enlightened eras;
Youth
© Robert Laurence Binyon
When life begins anew,
And Youth, from gathering flowers,
From vague delights, rapt musings, twilight hours,
Turns restless, seeking some great deed to do,
The Goddess In The Wood
© Rupert Brooke
Till a swift terror broke the abrupt hour.
The gold waves purled amidst the green above her;
And a bird sang. With one sharp-taken breath,
By sunlit branches and unshaken flower,
The immortal limbs flashed to the human lover,
And the immortal eyes to look on death.
(Tell me if this is all true...)
© Anselm Hollo
Is it true, is it true, that your love
travelled alone through ages and worlds in search of me?
that when you found me at last, your age-long desire
found utter peace in my gentle speech and my eyes and lips and flowing hair?
From The Chinese
© Robert Laurence Binyon
A flower, or the ghost of a flower!
Mist, or the soul of it, felt
In the secret night's mid hour,
Lost on the morning air!
Morning By The Seaside
© Frances Anne Kemble
With these two kisses on thine eyes
I melt thy sleep awayarise!
The Rainy Morning
© James Whitcomb Riley
The dawn of the day was dreary,
And the lowering clouds o'erhead
The Sound of the Sun
© Sonia Sanchez
It makes one all right, though you hadn’t thought of it,
A sound like the sound of the sky on fire, like Armageddon,
The Song Of Hiawatha XVI: Pau-Puk-Keewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,
He, the handsome Yenadizze,
September
© Joanne Kyger
The grasses are light brown
and the ocean comes in
long shimmering lines
under the fleet from last night
which dozes now in the early morning
A Mystery Play
© Duncan Campbell Scott
There must be fire in the city
To throw that yellow glare;
And fire in the little villages
On all the hearthstones there.
Tall Ambrosia
© Henry David Thoreau
Among the signs of autumn I perceive
The Roman wormwood (called by learned men
Inviting a Friend to Supper
© Benjamin Jonson
Tonight, grave sir, both my poor house, and I
Do equally desire your company;
England CXVII
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Yet, though treason and fierce unreason should league and lie and defame
and smite,
We that know thee, how far below thee the hatred burns of the sons of
night,
We that love thee, behold above thee the witness written of life in
light.
