Morning poems
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Fragments from 'Genius Lost'
© Charles Harpur
Prelude
I SEE the boy-bard neath lifes morning skies,
While hopes bright cohorts guess not of defeat,
And ardour lightens from his earnest eyes,
And faiths cherubic wings around his being beat.
To Edward Lear: on His Travels in Greece
© Alfred Tennyson
Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls
Of water, sheets of summer glass,
The long divine Peneian pass,
The vast Akrokeraunian walls,
The Sage Enamoured And The Honest Lady
© George Meredith
Our world believes it stabler if the soft
Are whipped to show the face repentance wears.
Then hear it, in a moan of atheist gloom,
Deplore the weedy growth of hypocrites;
Count Nature devilish, and accept for doom
The chasm between our passions and our wits!
The Morning Quatrains
© Charles Cotton
THE cock has crow'd an hour ago,
'Tis time we now dull sleep forego;
St. John Baptist's Day
© John Keble
Twice in her season of decay
The fallen Church hath felt Elijah's eye
The Battle Of The Lake Regillus
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
A Lay Sung at the Feast of Castor and Pollux on the Ides of Quintilis in the year of the City CCCCLI.
I.
Thoughts At A Vestibule
© Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
Heavenly thunder doesn't frighten you,
Earthly thunders you hold in your hands
That is why these unknown men must carry
Grief disconsolate within their hearts.
Stonewall Jackson
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE fashions and the forms of men decay,
The seasons perish, the calm sunsets die,
Ne'er with the same bright pomp of cloud or ray
To flush the golden pathways of the sky;
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto II.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
IV A Distinction
The lack of lovely pride, in her
Who strives to please, my pleasure numbs,
And still the maid I most prefer
Whose care to please with pleasing comes.
From The Italian
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
EYES with the same blue witchery as those
Of Psyche, which caught Love in his own wiles;
Lips of the breath and hue of the red rose,
That move but with kind words, and sweetest smiles;
Italy : 26. The Campagna Of Florence
© Samuel Rogers
'Tis morning. Let us wander through the fields,
Where Cimabue found a shepherd-boy
Tracing his idle fancies on the ground;
And let us from the top of Fiesole,
On Guido's Aurora
© Mathilde Blind
And on the Clouds a many-tinted band
Of Hours dance round their Leader, grave or gay
As glowing near or in his wake they sway;
While poised above the sun-awakened land
The Morning Star, fair herald of the day,
Hovers, a Cupid, back-blown torch in hand.
The Autumn Crocus
© Robert Laurence Binyon
In the high woods that crest our hills,
Upon a steep, rough slope of forest ground,
Where few flowers grow, sweet blooms to--day I found
Of the Autumn Crocus, blowing pale and fair.
Dim falls the sunlight there;
And a mild fragrance the lone thicket fills.
M'Gillviray's Dream
© Thomas Bracken
A Forest-Ranger's Story.
JUST nineteen long years, Jack, have passed o'er my shoulders
Valentine's Day
© William Shenstone
'Tis said that under distant skies,
Nor you the fact deny,
What first attracts an Indian's eyes
Becomes his deity.
Woodnotes
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
II
As sunbeams stream through liberal space
And nothing jostle or displace,
So waved the pine-tree through my thought
And fanned the dreams it never brought.
The Prince's Progress
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Till all sweet gums and juices flow,
Till the blossom of blossoms blow,
The long hours go and come and go,
The bride she sleepeth, waketh, sleepeth,
Waiting for one whose coming is slow:
Hark! the bride weepeth.
Easter-Day
© Robert Browning
XXXII.
Then did the Form expand, expand
I knew Him through the dread disguise,
As the whole God within his eyes
Embraced me.
