Morning poems
/ page 265 of 310 /
Self Communion
© Anne Brontë
'So was it, and so will it be:
Thy God will guide and strengthen thee;
His goodness cannot fail.
The sun that on thy morning rose
Will light thee to the evening's close,
Whatever storms assail.'
The Parting
© Anne Brontë
1 The chestnut steed stood by the gate
His noble master's will to wait,
The woody park so green and bright
Was glowing in the morning light,
Music on Christmas Morning
© Anne Brontë
To greet with joy the glorious morn,
Which angels welcomed long ago,
When our redeeming Lord was born,
To bring the light of Heaven below;
The Powers of Darkness to dispel,
And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.
Alexander And Zenobia
© Anne Brontë
One was a boy of just fourteen
Bold beautiful and bright;
Soft raven curls hung clustering round
A brow of marble white.
The Ballad of Dick Turpin
© Alfred Noyes
Three hundred guineas on Turpins head,
Trap him alive or shoot him dead;
And a hundred more for his mate, Tom King.
The Pig
© Roald Dahl
In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
The Solitary Huntsman
© Ogden Nash
The solitary huntsman
No coat of pink doth wear,
But midnight black from cap to spur
Upon his midnight mare.
Lines Indited With All The Depravity Of Poverty
© Ogden Nash
One way to be very happy is to be very rich
For then you can buy orchids by the quire and bacon by the flitch.
And yet at the same time People don't mind if you only tip them a dime,
Because it's very funny
First Child ... Second Child
© Ogden Nash
Arrived this evening at half-past nine.
Everybody is doing fine.
Is it a boy, or quite the reverse?
You can call in the morning and ask the nurse.
Gentleman Alone
© Pablo Neruda
The young maricones and the horny muchachas,
The big fat widows delirious from insomnia,
The Everlasting Gospel
© William Blake
The vision of Christ that thou dost see
Is my visions greatest enemy.
Timothy Winters
© Charles Causley
Timothy Winters comes to school
With eyes as wide as a football pool,
Ears like bombs and teeth like splinters:
A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters.
The Road Not Taken
© Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
The Old-Home Folks
© James Whitcomb Riley
Who shall sing a simple ditty all about the Willow,
Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray
That dandles high the happy bird that flutters there to trill a
Tremulously tender song of greeting to the May.
The Coromandel Fishers
© Sarojini Naidu
Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,
The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea!
Damascus, What Are You Doing to Me?
© Nizar Qabbani
3
I return to the womb in which I was formed . . .
To the first book I read in it . . .
To the first woman who taught me
The geography of love . . .
And the geography of women . . .
Five Letters To My Mother
© Nizar Qabbani
Good morning sweetheart.
Good morning my Saint of a sweetheart.
Little Fugue
© Sylvia Plath
The yew's black fingers wag:
Cold clouds go over.
So the deaf and dumb
Signal the blind, and are ignored.
On The Dead
© Walter Savage Landor
Yes, in this chancel once we sat alone,
O Dorothea! thou wert bright with youth,
