Morning poems
/ page 188 of 310 /
Seaweed
© James Russell Lowell
Not always unimpeded can I pray,
Nor, pitying saint, thine intercession claim;
Too closely clings the burden of the day,
And all the mint and anise that I pay
But swells my debt and deepens my self-blame.
Autumn Wealth
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
Of course, there is no lack of faithful Christians ,too.
Most of Lithuanians are men of good character;
They love their families, obey the will of God.
Each day live saintly lives, steer clear of all misdeeds,
And rule their modest homes with kind parental care.
The Knight's Leap: A Legend of Altenar
© Charles Kingsley
'So the foemen have fired the gate, men of mine;
And the water is spent and gone?
Then bring me a cup of the red Ahr-wine:
I never shall drink but this one.
Constable MCartys Investigations
© Henry Lawson
Most unpleasantly adjacent to the haunts of lower orders
Stood a terrace in the city when the current year began,
Grace Darling or "The Wreck of the Forfarshire"
© William Topaz McGonagall
As the night was beginning to close in one rough September day
In the year of 1838, a steamer passed through the Fairway
Between the Farne Islands and the coast, on her passage northwards;
But the wind was against her, and the steamer laboured hard.
A Second Review Of The Grand Army
© Francis Bret Harte
I read last night of the Grand Review
In Washington's chiefest avenue,-
The Lovers Secret
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
"Bravo, Annex!" they shouted, every one,--
"Not Mrs. Kemble's self had better done."
"Quite so," she stammered in her awkward way,--
Not just the thing, but something she must say.
The Spagnoletto. Act II
© Emma Lazarus
Ball in the Palace of DON JOHN. Dance. DON JOHN and MARIA
together. DON TOMMASO, ANNICCA. LORDS and LADIES, dancing or
promenading.
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Seventh
© William Wordsworth
"Powers there are
That touch each other to the quick--in modes
Which the gross world no sense hath to perceive,
No soul to dream of."
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto First
© William Wordsworth
FROM Bolton's old monastic tower
The bells ring loud with gladsome power;
The sun shines bright; the fields are gay
With people in their best array
Requiem
© George Meredith
Where faces are hueless, where eyelids are dewless,
Where passion is silent and hearts never crave;
Where thought hath no theme, and where sleep hath no dream,
In patience and peace thou art gone-to thy grave!
Gone where no warning can wake thee to morning,
Dead tho' a thousand hands stretch'd out to save.
The Golden Legend: II. A Farm In The Odenwald
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Elsie._ Here are flowers for you,
But they are not all for you.
Some of them are for the Virgin
And for Saint Cecilia.
Der Freischutz
© Madison Julius Cawein
He? why, a tall Franconian strong and young,
Brown as a walnut the first frost hath hulled;
Songs Of Seven (complete)
© Jean Ingelow
There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover,
There’s no rain left in heaven:
I’ve said my “seven times” over and over,
Seven times one are seven.
Ladies First
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Pamela Purse yelled, "Ladies first,"
Pushing in front of the ice cream line.
Pamela Purse yelled, "Ladies first,"
Grabbing the ketchup at dinnertime.
Will there really be a
© Emily Dickinson
Will there really be a "Morning"?
Is there such a thing as "Day"?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?
Make Me No Grave
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Make me no grave within that quiet place
Where friends shall sadly view the grassy mound,
Politely solemn for a little space,
As though the spirit slept beneath the ground.
Those Who Sit
© Arthur Rimbaud
These old men have always been one flesh with their seats,
feeling bright suns drying their skins to the texture of calico,
or else, looking at the window-panes
where the snow is turning grey,
shivering with the painful shiver of the toad.
