Morning poems

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The Little Left Hand - Act III

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Interior of a Church--Davis, Bradshaw, and others.
Davis. The sword of the Lord and the sword of Gideon!
It was good To see the red--coats run before our multitude.
We broke them by sheer numbers--

I look into the faces of the people passing by,
The glad ones and the sad ones, and the lined with misery,
And I wonder why the sorrow or the twinkle in the eye;
But the pale and weary faces are the ones that trouble me.

Up And-Down

© George MacDonald

The sun is gone down
And the moon's in the sky
But the sun will come up
And the moon be laid by.

On The Death Of Mr. Fox

© George Gordon Byron

THE FOLLOWING ILLIBERAL IMPROMPTU APPEARED IN A MORNING PAPER:
'Our nation's foes lament on Fox's death,
But bless the hour when PITT resign'd his breath:
These feelings wide, let sense and truth unclue,
We give the palm where Justice points its due.'

The Wail Of The Waiter

© Marcus Clarke

All day long, at Scott's or Menzies', I await the gorging crowd,

Panting, penned within a pantry, with the blowflies humming loud,

Merlin And Vivien

© Alfred Tennyson

A storm was coming, but the winds were still,
And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork,
At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.

The School-Boy

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

So ran my lines, as pen and paper met,
The truant goose-quill travelling like Planchette;
Too ready servant, whose deceitful ways
Full many a slipshod line, alas! betrays;
Hence of the rhyming thousand not a few
Have builded worse--a great deal--than they knew.

Description Of A Lost Friend

© Caroline Norton

FROM THE MORNING POST.
LOST--near the 'Change in the city,
(I saw there a girl that seemed pretty)
'Joe Steel,' a short, cross-looking varlet,

Ophelia

© Arthur Rimbaud

On the calm black water where the stars are sleeping
White Ophelia floats like a great lily ;
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…
- In the far-off woods you can hear them sound the mort.

Hymn For The Dedication Of Memorial Hall At Cambridge, June 23, 1874

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

WHERE, girt around by savage foes,
Our nurturing Mother's shelter rose,
Behold, the lofty temple stands,
Reared by her children's grateful hands!

Songs Of Poltescoe Valley

© Arthur Symons

I
Under the trees in the dell.
Here by the side of the stream,
Were it not pleasant to dream,
Were it not better to dwell?

In Ampezzo

© Trumbull Stickney

Only once more and not again-the larches
Shake to the wind their echo, "Not again,"-
We see, below the sky that over-arches
Heavy and blue, the plain

Italy : 23. Bologna

'Twas night; the noise and bustle of the day
Were o'er. The mountebank no longer wrought
Miraculous cures -- he and his stage were gone;
And he who, when the crisis of his tale