Morning poems
/ page 194 of 310 /Repining
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
She sat alway thro' the long day
Spinning the weary thread away;
And ever said in undertone:
'Come, that I be no more alone.'
I Explain A Few Things
© Pablo Neruda
You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
and the poppy-petalled metaphysics?
and the rain repeatedly spattering
its words and drilling them full
of apertures and birds?
I'll tell you all the news.
The Maid Of Jerusalem
© John Clare
Maid of Jerusalem, by the Dead Sea,
I wandered all sorrowing thinking of thee,--
Thy city in ruins, thy kindred deplored,
All fallen and lost by the Ottoman's sword.
The Old Squire
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I like the hunting of the hare
Better than that of the fox;
I like the joyous morning air,
And the crowing of the cocks.
Pauline
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
To die for what we love! Oh! there is power
In the true heart, and pride, and joy, for this;
It is to live without the vanish'd light
That strength is needed. -Anon
Reflection
© Edgar Albert Guest
You have given me riches and ease,
You have given me joys through the years,
The Farmer's Boy - Summer
© Robert Bloomfield
Here, midst the boldest triumphs of her worth,
NATURE herself invites the REAPERS forth;
Dares the keen sickle from its twelvemonth's rest,
And gives that ardour which in every breast
From infancy to age alike appears,
When the first sheaf its plumy top uprears.
Clarence
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Clarence Lee from Tennessee
Loved the commercials he saw on TV.
He watched with wide believing eyes
And bought everything they advertised --
The Colonel's Soliloquy
© Thomas Hardy
"The quay recedes. Hurrah! Ahead we go! . . .
It's true I've been accustomed now to home,
And joints get rusty, and one's limbs may grow
More fit to rest than roam.
Edwin and Eltruda, a Legendary Tale
© Helen Maria Williams
Where the pure Derwent's waters glide
Along their mossy bed,
Close by the river's verdant side,
A castle rear'd its head.
Tale XIII
© George Crabbe
hall,
Sires, sons, and sons of sons, were buried all,
She then abounded, and had wealth to spare
For softening grief she once was doom'd to share;
Thus train'd in misery's school, and taught to
HMS Pinafore: Act I
© William Schwenck Gilbert
SCENE - Quarter-deck of H.M.S. Pinafore. Sailors, led by
Boatswain, discovered cleaning brasswork, splicing rope, etc.
The Chapel of the Hermits
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"I do believe, and yet, in grief,
I pray for help to unbelief;
For needful strength aside to lay
The daily cumberings of my way.
To Lucy, Countess of Bedford, with John Donne's Satires
© Benjamin Jonson
Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are
Life of the Muses' day, their morning star!
Bell Birds
© Henry Kendall
By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;
Within and Without: Part III: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
SCENE I.-Night. London. A large meanly furnished room; a single
candle on the table; a child asleep in a little crib. JULIAN
sits by the table, reading in a low voice out of a book. He looks
older, and his hair is lined with grey; his eyes look clearer.
Mazeppa
© George Gordon Byron
'Twas after dread Pultowa's day,
When fortune left the royal Swede--
Around a slaughtered army lay,
No more to combat and to bleed.
To Mr. Murray
© George Gordon Byron
To hook the reader, you, John Murray,
Have publish'd 'Anjou's Margaret,
Which won't be sold off in a hurry
(At least, it has not been as yet);