Morning poems
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Drunken Morning
© Arthur Rimbaud
Oh, my Beautiful! Oh, my Good!
Hideous fanfare where
yet I do not stumble!
Oh, rack of enchantments!
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book X - Karna-Badha - (Fall Of Karna)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
After the death of Karna, Salya led the Kuru troops on the eighteenth
and last day of the war, and fell. A midnight slaughter in the Pandav
camp, perpetrated by the vengeful son of Drona, concludes the war.
Duryodhan, left wounded by Bhima, heard of the slaughter and died
happy.
Amor Vitae
© Archibald Lampman
I love the warm bare earth and all
That works and dreams thereon:
I love the seasons yet to fall:
I love the ages gone,
Shakespeare
© Charles Harpur
How oft, in Austral woods, the parting day
Has gone through western golden gates away
While sweetest Shakespeare, fancys darling child,
Warbled for me his native woodnotes wild.
The New Exodus
© John Greenleaf Whittier
BY fire and cloud, across the desert sand,
And through the parted waves,
From their long bondage, with an outstretched hand,
God led the Hebrew slaves!
Voyages VI
© Hart Crane
Where icy and bright dungeons lift
Of swimmers their lost morning eyes,
And ocean rivers, churning, shift
Green borders under stranger skies,
Almighty Spirit, Now Behold
© James Montgomery
Almighty Spirit, now behold
A world by sin destroyed:
Creating Spirit, as of old,
Move on the formless void,
Move on the formless void.
A Morning After Storm
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ALL night the north wind blew; the harsh north rain
Lashed like a spiteful whip at roof and sill.
Now the pale morning lowers, bewildered, chill,
Leaning her cheek against the misted pane,
Trial by Jury
© William Schwenck Gilbert
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
The Moon, Offended
© Charles Baudelaire
Oh moon our fathers worshipped, their love discreet,
from the blue countrys heights where the bright seraglio,
the stars in their sweet dress, go treading after you,
my ancient Cynthia, lamp of my retreat,
The Glass Jar
© Gwen Harwood
Wrapped in a scarf his monstrance stood
ready to bless, to exorcize
monsters that whispering would rise
nightly from the intricate wood
that ringed his bed, to light with total power
the holy commonplace of field and flower.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 02 - Substance Is Eternal
© Lucretius
This terror, then, this darkness of the mind,
Not sunrise with its flaring spokes of light,
Charades
© Charles Stuart Calverley
Spake John Grogblossom the coachman to Eliza Spinks the cook:
"Mrs. Spinks," says he, "I've foundered: 'Liza dear, I'm overtook.
Druv into a corner reglar, puzzled as a babe unborn;
Speak the word, my blessed 'Liza; speak, and John the coachman's yourn."
The Muses Threnodie: Fifth Muse
© Henry Adamson
Yet bold attempt and dangerous, said I,
Upon these kinde of men such chance to try,
Morning
© 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?
