Morning poems
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Grey
© Ada Cambridge
Is the morning dim and cloudy? Does the wind drift up the leaves?
Is there mist upon the mountains, where the sun shone yesterday?
Are the little song-birds silent? Is the sky all blurred and grey?
Does the rain fall, patter, patter, from the eaves?
The Bell-Founder Part II - Triumph And Reward
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
In the furnace the dry branches crackle, the crucible shines as with
gold,
As they carry the hot flaming metal in haste from the fire to the mould;
Loud roars the bellows, and louder the flames as they shrieking escape,
The Canadian Country Doctor
© William Henry Drummond
I s'pose mos'ev'ry body t'ink hees job's
about de hardes'
The Land Of The Living
© Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
I know of a land
Where hair does not grey, and where times rule is banned,
Where sun does not burn, and where wave does not ring,
Where autumn embraces the blossoming spring,
Where morning and evening unceasingly dance
In noons brightest glance.
Flame And Snow
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The bare branches rose against the gray sky.
Under them, freshly fallen, snow shone to the eye.
Up the hill--slope, over the brow it shone,
Spreading an immaterial beauty to tread upon.
The Merchant Of Venice: A Legend Of Italy
© Richard Harris Barham
With a pack,
Like a sack
Of old clothes at his back,
And three hats on his head, Shylock came in a crack,
Saying, 'Rest you fair, Signior Antonio!- vat, pray,
Might your vorship be pleashed for to vant in ma vay!'
Sonnet Cycle For Lady Magdalen
© John Donne
Her of your name, whose fair inheritance
Bethina was, and jointure Magdalo:
Metempsychosis
© Kenneth Slessor
SUDDENLY to become John Benbow, walking down William Street
With a tin trunk and a five-pound note, looking for a place to eat,
And a peajacket the colour of a shark's behind
That a Jew might buy in the morning. . . .
On Old Man's Thought Of School
© Walt Whitman
And these I see-these sparkling eyes,
These stores of mystic meaning-these young lives,
Building, equipping, like a fleet of ships-immortal ships!
Soon to sail out over the measureless seas,
On the Soul's voyage.
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 131
© Alfred Tennyson
O true and tried, so well and long,
Demand not thou a marriage lay;
In that it is thy marriage day
Is music more than any song.
Words From The Wind
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I called to the wind of the Winter,
As he sped like a steed on his way,
"Oh! rest for awhile on thy journey,
And answer these questions, I pray.
We Two-How Long We Were Fool'd
© Walt Whitman
WE two-how long we were fool'd!
Now transmuted, we swiftly escape, as Nature escapes;
Tasso Dying
© Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
But it's too late! I stand before the fatal borne.
To wild applause I won't step on Capitoline,
And glory's laurels on my feeble head
Won't sweeten the bard's frightful lot.
The Dread Voyage
© William Wilfred Campbell
Trim the sails the weird stars under
Past the iron hail and thunder,
The Priests Brother
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Thrice in the night the priest arose
From broken sleep to kneel and pray.
An Unfortunate Likeness
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I'VE painted SHAKESPEARE all my life -
"An infant" (even then at "play"!)
"A boy," with stage-ambition rife,
Then "Married to ANN HATHAWAY."
Weariness
© Arthur Symons
I
There are grey hours when I drink of indifference; all things fade
Into the grey of a twilight that covers my soul with its sky;
Scarcely I know that this shade is the world, or this burden is I;
And life, and art, and love, and death, are the shades of a shade.
The Sydney International Exhibition
© Henry Kendall
Now, while Orion, flaming south, doth set
A shining foot on hills of wind and wet
