Morning poems
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The Storm
© Frederick George Scott
O GRIP the earth, ye forest trees,
Grip well the earth to-night,
The Storm-God rides across the seas
To greet the morning light.
Fragmentary Scenes From The Road To Avernus
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Scene I
"Discontent"
LAURENCE RABY.
The Quest
© James Whitcomb Riley
I am looking for Love. Has he passed this way,
With eyes as blue as the skies of May,
And a face as fair as the summer dawn?--
You answer back, but I wander on,--
For you say: "Oh, yes; but his eyes were gray,
And his face as dim as a rainy day."
The Bowl Of Water
© Robert Laurence Binyon
She is eight years old.
When she laughs, her eyes laugh;
Light dances in her eyes;
She tosses back her long hair
To Dr. Moore,
© Helen Maria Williams
IN ANSWER TO A POETICAL EPISTLE WRITTEN TO
ME BY HIM IN WALES, SEPTEMBER 1791.
The Age Of Ink
© Edgar Albert Guest
Swiftly the changes come. Each day
Sees some lost beauty blown away
Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth
© Ovid
The End of the Thirteenth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 09:
© Conrad Aiken
The days, the nights, flow one by one above us,
The hours go silently over our lifted faces,
We are like dreamers who walk beneath a sea.
Beneath high walls we flow in the sun together.
We sleep, we wake, we laugh, we pursue, we flee.
Pharsalia - Book VI: The Fight Near Dyrhachium. Scaeva's Exploits. The Witch Of Thessalia.
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Now that the chiefs with minds intent on fight
Had drawn their armies near upon the hills
The Mantle Of St. John De Matha. A Legend Of "The Red, White, And Blue," A. D. 1154-1864
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A STRONG and mighty Angel,
Calm, terrible, and bright,
The cross in blended red and blue
Upon his mantle white!
Couplets In Praise
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Make I at least your praise, chaplet of sunny verse,
Each dear delight of your told to the universe.
To Sir Henry Goodyere
© John Donne
WHO makes the last a pattern for next year,
Turns no new leaf, but still the same things reads ;
Seen things he sees again, heard things doth hear,
And makes his life but like a pair of beads.
The Larks Nest
© Charlotte Turner Smith
"TRUST only to thyself;" the maxim's sound;
For, tho' life's choicest blessing be a friend,
Hero And Leander. The Fifth Sestiad
© George Chapman
Now was bright Hero weary of the day,
Thought an Olympiad in Leander's stay.
Hymn To Apollo
© John Lyly
Sing to Apollo, god of day,
Whose golden beams with morning play
And make her eyes so brightly shine,
Aurora's face is called divine;
Under The Willows
© James Russell Lowell
Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,
Gypsy, whose roof is every spreading tree,
Four Riddles
© Lewis Carroll
I
There was an ancient City, stricken down
With a strange frenzy, and for many a day
They paced from morn to eve the crowded town,
And danced the night away.
The Columbiad: Book VI
© Joel Barlow
But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.
