Morning poems

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Evangeline: Part The Second. IV.

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

FAR in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains

Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and luminous summits.

Summer Dawn

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

SOME summer mornings when you've taken tea
Too late the night before perhaps you'll see,
If at some Berkshire farmhouse far away
You chance to wake while yet the sky is gray,

Come to the casement, well watch the snow
Softly descending on earth below,
Fairer and whiter than spotless down
Or the pearls that gleam in a monarchs crown,
Clothing the earth in its robes bright flow;
Is it not lovelythe pure white snow?

The Great Pig Story Of The Tweed.

© James Brunton Stephens

HANDS off, old man!" the young man cried

They stood beside the Tweed,

Kenoza Lake

© John Greenleaf Whittier

As Adam did in Paradise,
To-day the primal right we claim
Fair mirror of the woods and skies,
We give to thee a name.

Marburg

© Boris Pasternak

I quivered. I flared up, and then was extinguished.
I shook. I had made a proposal - but late,
Too late. I was scared, and she had refused me.
I pity her tears, am more blessed than a saint.

The Lover To His Lass

© Duncan Campbell Scott

Crown her with stars, this angel of our planet,
Cover her with morning, this thing of pure delight,
Mantle her with midnight till a mortal cannot
See her for the garments of the light and the night.

Ourselves Alone

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

"Oh, why drive me forth from your hearth into exile
And into far dangers? Your house is my own.
Faithful I serve, as I ever did serve you,
Standing together, ourselvesand alone."

The House Of The Commonwealth

© Roderic Quinn

We sent a word across the seas that said,
"The house is finished and the doors are wide,
Come, enter in.
A stately house it is, with tables spread,
Where men in liberty and love abide
With hearts akin.

Sir Eustace Grey

© George Crabbe

And shall I then the fact deny?
I was--thou know'st--I was begone,
Like him who fill'd the eastern throne,
To whom the Watcher cried aloud;
That royal wretch of Babylon,
Who was so guilty and so proud.

The Black Rock

© John Gould Fletcher

Off the long headland, threshed about by round-backed breakers,
There is a black rock, standing high at the full tide;
Off the headland there is emptiness,
And the moaning of the ocean,
And the black rock standing alone.

Hunted Down

© Henry Kendall

Two years had the tiger, whose shape was that of a sinister man,

Been out since the night of escape - two years under horror and ban.

King Harald's Trance

© George Meredith

Sword in length a reaping-hook amain
Harald sheared his field, blood up to shank:
'Mid the swathes of slain,
First at moonrise drank.

Wrestling Jacob

Come, O thou Traveller unknown,
Whom still I hold, but cannot see;
My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with thee;
With thee all night I mean to stay,
And wrestle till the break of day.

The Old Garden

I stood in an ancient garden
With high red walls around;
Over them grey and green lichens
In shadowy arabesque wound.

The Boat On The Serchio

Our boat is asleep on Serchio's stream,
Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream,
The helm sways idly, hither and thither;
Dominic, the boatman, has brought the mast,
And the oars, and the sails; but tis sleeping fast,
Like a beast, unconscious of its tether.