Morning poems
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Out Of Nazareth
© James Whitcomb Riley
"Who can rob thee an thou hast
More than this that thou hast cast
At my feet-- this dust of gold?
Simply this and that, all told!
Hast thou not a treasure of
Such a thing as men call love?"
The Shallows Of The Ford
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Did you ever wait for daylight
when the stars along the river
The Lambs on the Boulder
© James Wright
I hear that the Commune di Padova has an exhibition of master-
pieces from Giotto to Mantegna. Giotto is the master of angels, and
The Year's End
© Roderic Quinn
THE voices of the wind and wave
They sigh the Old Year's requiem;
The dead are calling from the grave
Good friends, a little space I crave
Ibn Kolthum
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Ha! The bowl! Fill it high, a fair morning wine--cup!
Leave we naught of the lees of Andarína.
Rise, pour forth, be it mixed, let it foam like saffron!
tempered thus will we drink it, ay, free--handed.
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
Francis Parkman
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HE rests from toil; the portals of the tomb
Close on the last of those unwearying hands
That wove their pictured webs in History's loom,
Rich with the memories of three distant lands.
The Song Of Hiawatha I: The Peace-Pipe
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On the Mountains of the Prairie,
On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,
The Song Of Hiawatha VII: Hiawatha's Sailing
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree!
Of your yellow bark, O Birch-tree!
When April Comes!
© Virna Sheard
When April comes with softly shining eyes,
And daffodils bound in her wind-blown hair,
Oh, she will coax all clouds from out the skies,
And every day will bring some sweet surprise,--
The swallows will come swinging through the air
When April comes!
Pheasant
© Sylvia Plath
You said you would kill it this morning.
Do not kill it. It startles me still,
The jut of that odd, dark head, pacing
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
Drought
© Flexmore Hudson
Midsummer noon: and the timbered walls
start in the heat;
and the children sag listlessly over the desks,
with bloodless faces oozing sweat
sipped by the stinging flies.
The Wasp And The Hornet
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE two proud sisters of the sea,
In glory and in doom!--
To---- On Her First Ascent To The Summit Of Helvellyn
© William Wordsworth
INMATE of a mountain-dwelling,
Thou hast clomb aloft, and gazed
From the watch-towers of Helvellyn;
Awed, delighted, and amazed!
Hellas: A Lyrical Drama
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
The curtain of the Universe
Is rent and shattered,
The splendour-wingèd worlds disperse
Like wild doves scattered.
Instruction
© James Montgomery
From heaven descend the drops of dew,
From heaven the gracious showers,
