Morning poems
/ page 210 of 310 /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
Invocation
© Mathilde Blind
BREATHE thro' me in music,
Spirit of the time!
Pregnant with the future,
Spirit of the time!
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
Ogyges
© Henry Kendall
Stand out, swift-footed leaders of the horns,
And draw strong breath, and fill the hollowy cliff
The Return Of Youth
© William Cullen Bryant
My friend, thou sorrowest for thy golden prime,
For thy fair youthful years too swift of flight;
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!
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
It was an April morning: fresh and clear
© William Wordsworth
It was an April morning: fresh and clear
The Rivulet, delighting in its strength,
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.
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
Stray Birds 31 - 40
© Rabindranath Tagore
31
THE trees come up to my window
like the yearning voice of the dumb earth.
32
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.
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.
The RedBlazeis the Morning
© Emily Dickinson
The RedBlazeis the Morning
The Violetis Noon
The YellowDayis falling
And after thatis none
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.
Bryants 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.
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,