Morning poems

 / page 210 of 310 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To Charles Cowden Clarke

© John Keats

Oft have you seen a swan superbly frowning,
And with proud breast his own white shadow crowning;
He slants his neck beneath the waters bright
So silently, it seems a beam of light

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Invocation

© Mathilde Blind

BREATHE thro' me in music,
  Spirit of the time!
Pregnant with the future,
  Spirit of the time!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book IX - Drona-Badha (Fall Of Drona)

© Romesh Chunder Dutt

On the fall of Bhishma the Brahman chief Drona, preceptor of the Kuru

and Pandav princes, was appointed the leader of the Kuru forces. For

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Ogyges

© Henry Kendall

Stand out, swift-footed leaders of the horns,

And draw strong breath, and fill the hollowy cliff

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Return Of Youth

© William Cullen Bryant

My friend, thou sorrowest for thy golden prime,

  For thy fair youthful years too swift of flight;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Bells

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

‘T is but a wave, whose spreading circle beats,
With the same impulse, every nerve it meets,
Yet who shall count the varied shapes that ride
On the round surge of that aerial tide!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Shepherds Calendar - February - A Thaw

© John Clare

Ploughmen go whistling to their toils
And yoke again the rested plough
And mingling oer the mellow soils
Boys' shouts and whips are noising now

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

It was an April morning: fresh and clear

© William Wordsworth

It was an April morning: fresh and clear

The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

"Ad Amicos"

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

"Dumque virent genua

Et decet, obducta solvatur fonte senectus."

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Song (Untitled#1)

© George Meredith

Love within the lover's breast
Burns like Hesper in the west,
O'er the ashes of the sun,
Till the day and night are done;
Then when dawn drives up her car -
Lo! it is the morning star.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

I Would Like To Describe

© Zbigniew Herbert

I would like to describe the simplest emotion
joy or sadness
but not as others do
reaching for shafts of rain or sun

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Bride's Prelude

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte

To listless Aloÿse;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Stray Birds 31 - 40

© Rabindranath Tagore

31
THE trees come up to my window
like the yearning voice of the dumb earth. 
32

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Rome Unvisited

© Oscar Wilde

I.
 THE corn has turned from grey to red,
 Since first my spirit wandered forth
 From the drear cities of the north,
 And to Italia's mountains fled.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Scarlet Cloak

© Roderic Quinn

ONE may go a-many leagues a-questing yon and hither;
One may look on queens and kings, and think the vision bliss;
But he who has the wholesome heart, as lightsome as a feather,
Can find a joy in everything, no matter what it is.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Red—Blaze—is the Morning

© Emily Dickinson

The Red—Blaze—is the Morning—
The Violet—is Noon—
The Yellow—Day—is falling—
And after that—is none—

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To Chloe Jealous

© Matthew Prior

  Dear Chloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face;
  Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hair all uncurl'd:
  Prythee quit this caprice; and (as old Falstaff says)
  Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Cotton Boll

© Henry Timrod

While I recline

At ease beneath

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Bryant’s Seventieth Birthday

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

O EVEN-HANDED Nature! we confess
This life that men so honor, love, and bless
Has filled thine olden measure. Not the less.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Seventeenth Sunday After Trinity

© John Keble

Stately thy walls, and holy are the prayers
  Which day and night before thine altars rise:
Not statelier, towering o'er her marble stairs,
  Flashed Sion's gilded dome to summer skies,
Not holier, while around him angels bowed,
From Aaron's censer steamed the spicy cloud,