Morning poems
/ page 176 of 310 /
Returning of Issue
© Henry Reed
Tomorrow will be your last day here. Someone is speaking:
A familiar voice, speaking again at all of us.
And beyond the windows it is inside now, and autumn
On a wind growing daily harsher, small things to the earth
Are turning and whirling, small. Tomorrow will be
Your last day here,
Exorcism
© Robert Friend
I know who's scratching at the door.
Clock, there's no use yawning.
More than boards are loose in the floor
I wasn't born this morning.
from Omeros
© Derek Walcott
In hill-towns, from San Fernando to Mayagüez,
the same sunrise stirred the feathered lances of cane
down the archipelago’s highways. The first breeze
Up at a Villa—Down in the City
© Robert Browning
(As Distinguished by an Italian Person of Quality)
Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare,
The house for me, no doubt, were a house in the city-square;
Ah, such a life, such a life, as one leads at the window there!
After Reading Trollope's History Of Florence
© Eugene Field
My books are on their shelves again
And clouds lie low with mist and rain.
Afar the Arno murmurs low
The tale of fields of melting snow.
List to the bells of times agone
The while I wait me for the dawn.
The Kingfisher
© Amy Clampitt
In a year the nightingales were said to be so loud
they drowned out slumber, and peafowl strolled screaming
beside the ruined nunnery, through the long evening
of a dazzled pub crawl, the halcyon color, portholed
by those eye-spots’ stunning tapestry, unsettled
the pastoral nightfall with amazements opening.
Curriculum Vitae
© Anthony Evan Hecht
As though it were reluctant to be day,
…….Morning deploys a scale
…….Of rarities in gray,
And winter settles down in its chain-mail,
Lyell’s Hypothesis Again
© Kenneth Rexroth
An Attempt to Explain the Former
Changes of the Earth's Surface by
Causes Now in Operation
All The Little Hoofprints
© Robinson Jeffers
Farther up the gorge the sea's voice fainted and ceased.
We heard a new noise far away ahead of us, vague and metallic,
Janet Waking
© John Crowe Ransom
Beautifully Janet slept
Till it was deeply morning. She woke then
And thought about her dainty-feathered hen,
To see how it had kept.
Convict Once - Part First.
© James Brunton Stephens
I.
FREE again! Free again! eastward and westward, before me, behind me,
Wide lies Australia! and free are my feet, as my soul is, to roam!
Oh joy unwonted of space undetermined! No limit assigned me!
Freedom conditioned by nought save the need and desire of a home!
The Last Bargain
© Anselm Hollo
"Come and hire me," I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road.
Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot.
He held my hand and said, "I will hire you with my power."
But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.
The bright blessed day with joy we see
© Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
The bright blessed day with joy we see
Rise out of the sea at dawning;
It lightens the sky unceasingly,
Our gain and delight adorning!
As children of light we sense that soon
Dark night will give way to morning!
Song of Myself
© Walt Whitman
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
Crane
© Padraic Colum
I KNOW you, Crane:
I, too, have waited,
Waited until my heart
Melted to little pools around my feet!
Angels
© Boris Pasternak
Elliot Ray Neiderland, home from college
one winter, hauling a load of Herefords
The Visitant
© Theodore Roethke
A cloud moved close. The bulk of the wind shifted.
A tree swayed over water.
A voice said:
Stay. Stay by the slip-ooze. Stay.
A Vision Of The Sea
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Tis the terror of tempest. The rags of the sail
Are flickering in ribbons within the fierce gale:
From the stark night of vapours the dim rain is driven,
And when lightning is loosed, like a deluge from Heaven,
