Morning poems
/ page 48 of 310 /Satan Absolved
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
We have no heart to serve without instructions new.
The Shepherd's Calendar - June
© John Clare
Now summer is in flower and natures hum
Is never silent round her sultry bloom
The Royal Mails
© Ralph Hodgson
For all its flowers and trailing bowers,
Its singing birds and streams,
The Visionary Face
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I AM happy with her I love,
In a circle of charmed repose;
My soul leaps up to follow her feet
Wherever my darling goes;
Love Unkind
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
OUT upon the bleak hillside, the bleak hillside, he lay--
Her lips were red, and red the stream that slipped his life away.
Ah, crimson, crimson were her lips, but his were turning gray.
Daniel Henry Deniehy
© Henry Kendall
TAKE the harp, but very softly for our brother touch the strings:
Wind and wood shall help to wail him, waves and mournful mountain-springs.
On a Fair Morning as I Came by the Way
© Thomas Morley
On a fair morning, as I came by the way,
Met I with a merry maid in the merry month of May,
When a sweet love sings his lovely lay,
And every bird upon the bush bechirps it up so gay.
Yarrow Visited
© William Wordsworth
And is this -Yarrow? -This the stream
Of which my fancy cherished
To a Lady Before Marriage
© Thomas Tickell
Oh! form'd by Nature, and refin'd by Art,
With charms to win, and sense to fix the heart!
The Prophecy Of Famine
© Charles Churchill
Still have I known thee for a silly swain;
Of things past help, what boots it to complain?
Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune's spite;
No sky is heavy, if the heart be light:
Patience is sorrow's salve: what can't be cured,
So Donald right areads, must be endured.
Are Ye Right, There, Michael?
© William Percy French
Are ye right there, Michael, are ye right?
Do you think that we'll be there before the night?
Ye've been so long in startin',
That ye couldn't say for startin'
Still ye might now, Michael,
So ye might!
The Rosicrucian
© Madison Julius Cawein
Was it her soul? or the sapphire fire
That sang like the note of a seraph's lyre?
Out of her mouth there fell no word-
She spake with her soul, as a flower speaketh.
Song of the Cattle Hunters
© Henry Kendall
While the morning light beams on the fern-matted streams,
And the water-pools flash in its glow,
To the Right Honourable William, Earl of Dartmouth
© Phillis Wheatley
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
The Lady of the Lake: Canto III. - The Gathering
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,
Who danced our infancy upon their knee,
And told our marvelling boyhood legends store
The Ships Of Saint John
© Bliss William Carman
Frenchman and Britisher and Dane,
Yankee, Spaniard and Portugee,
And many a home ship back again
With her stories of the sea.
What Sayest Thou, Traveller
© Paul Verlaine
What sayst thou, traveller, of all thou saw'st afar?
On every tree hangs boredom, ripening to its fall,
Didst gather it, thou smoking yon thy sad cigar,
Black, casting an incongruous shadow on the wall?
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I
© Caroline Norton
So, till the day when over Dinan's walls
The Autumn sunshine of my story falls;
And the guests bidden, gather for the chase,
And the smile brightens on the lovely face
That greets them in succession as they come
Into that high and hospitable home.
In The Country English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
Here I get him closest to my heart -
As close is the earth beneath my feet