Morning poems
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In a City Garden
© Trumbull Stickney
Yet was this willow here.
It hung as now its olive skeins aloft
Into the sky, then blue and clear,-
And yonder pair of poplar trees
III: To Sir Robert Wroth
© Benjamin Jonson
How blest art thou, canst love the countrey, Wroth,
Whether by choyce, or fate, or both!
Monody On The Death Of Dr. Warton
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh! I should ill thy generous cares requite
Thou who didst first inspire my timid Muse,
The Prophetic Bard's Oration: From A Faun's Holiday
© Robert Nichols
For Pan, the Unknown God, rules all.
He shall outlive the funeral,
Change, and decay, of many Gods,
Until he, too, lets fall his rods
Of viewless power upon that minute
When Universe cowers at Infinite!
Idyll V. The Battle of the Bards
© Theocritus
COMETAS.
Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep away:
Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday.
The Last Song Of Camoens
© William Lisle Bowles
The morning shone on Tagus' rocky side,
And airs of summer swelled the yellow tide,
A Family Record
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WOODSTOCK, CONN., JULY 4, 1877
NOT to myself this breath of vesper song,
Meditation On A Cold, Dark, And Rainy Night
© George Moses Horton
Sweet on the house top falls the gentle shower,
Narrara Creek
© Henry Kendall
From the rainy hill-heads, where, in starts and in spasms,
Leaps wild the white torrent from chasms to chasms
Behind The Arras
© Bliss William Carman
I hardly know which room I care for best;
This fronting west,
With the strange hills in view,
Where the great sun goes,where I may go too,
When my lease is through,
The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto II.
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
If thou would'st view fair Melrose aright,
Your Honeymoon Will Last
© George Ade
She:
When I settle with my hubby
In our little home,
He must not be wild and clubby,
He must never roam.
To My Native Land
© Jens Baggesen
Thou spot of earth, where from the breast of woe
My eye first rose, and in the purple glow
Of morning, and the dewy smile of love,
Marked the first gloamings of the Power above:
Tale XXI
© George Crabbe
rise;
Not there the wise alone their entrance find,
Imparting useful light to mortals blind;
But, blind themselves, these erring guides hold out
Alluring lights to lead us far about;
Screen'd by such means, here Scandal whets her
The Childless Father
© William Wordsworth
"UP, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
Not a soul in the village this morning will stay;
The hare has just started from Hamilton's grounds,
And Skiddaw is glad with the cry of the hounds."
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 01 - Proem
© Lucretius
'Tis sweet, when, down the mighty main, the winds
Roll up its waste of waters, from the land
Peace. A Study
© Charles Stuart Calverley
He stood, a worn-out City clerk -
Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday,
Song Of Nature
© Henry David Thoreau
Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gull of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.
