Morning poems
/ page 195 of 310 /The Rock Of The Betrayed
© Caroline Norton
IT was a Highland chieftain's son
Gazed sadly from the hill:
And they saw him shrink from the autumn wind,
As its blast came keen and chill.
II.
Requiem
© Robert Fuller Murray
For thee the birds shall never sing again,
Nor fresh green leaves come out upon the tree,
The brook shall no more murmur the refrain
For thee.
Czar Nicholas
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
We could not turn from that colossal foe,
The morning shadow of whose hideous head
The Castle By The Sea
© Johann Ludwig Uhland
"Hast thou seen that lordly castle,
That Castle by the Sea?
Golden and red above it
The clouds float gorgeously.
At A Meeting Of Friends
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
I REMEMBER--why, yes! God bless me! and was it so long ago?
I fear I'm growing forgetful, as old folks do, you know;
It must have been in 'forty--I would say 'thirty-nine--
We talked this matter over, I and a friend of mine.
Gotham - Book III
© Charles Churchill
Can the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The Invisible People
© Lesbia Harford
When I go into town at half past seven
Great crowds of people stream across the ways,
Hurrying, although it's only half past seven.
They are the invisible people of the days.
Rubaiyat 27
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
The morning breeze tended to the rose,
A maid-in-waiting, as the flower grows.
If in the sun you have a shady refuge,
Seek the shade of a rose, and one who glows.
The Arabs Faerwell To His Horse
© Caroline Norton
Yes, thou must go! the wild free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,
Thy master's home--from all of these, my exiled one must fly.
Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet,
And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master's hand to meet.
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye, glancing bright
Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light:
To -----
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Fair Nature's priestesses! to whom,
In hieroglyph of bud and bloom,
Her mysteries are told;
Who, wise in lore of wood and mead,
The seasons' pictured scrolls can read,
In lessons manifold!
The Swagman
© Anonymous
Kind friends, pray give attention
To this, my little song.
Some rum things I will mention,
The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
End of the wonderful one-hoss shay.
Logic is logic. That's all I say.
The Dong with a Luminous Nose
© Edward Lear
When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights; -
When the angry breakers roar
"How Did You Rest, Last Night?"
© James Whitcomb Riley
"How did you rest, last night?"--
I've heard my gran'pap say
Upon The Sight Of A Beautiful Picture Painted By Sir G. H. Beaumont, Bart
© William Wordsworth
PRAISED be the Art whose subtle power could stay
Yon cloud, and fix it in that glorious shape;
Nor would permit the thin smoke to escape,
Nor those bright sunbeams to forsake the day;
The Child World
© Edgar Albert Guest
The child world is a wondrous world,
For there the flags of hate are furled,
Voyage of the Jettie
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A shallow stream, from fountains
Deep in the Sandwich mountains,
Ran lake ward Bearcamp River;
And, between its flood-torn shores,
Sped by sail or urged by oars
No keel had vexed it ever.
Song. The Smile
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
LET others love the pearly tear,
The blushing cheek adorning;
And say, 'tis like the dew-drop clear,
That gems the rose of morning.
Vigil
© Robert Laurence Binyon
In the hollow of pale night upon the moor
The silence blows a perfume: O but hark!
A sound is in the bosom of the dark,
Breathed like a secret from the glimmering shore;