Morning poems
/ page 85 of 310 /Fairies
© Madison Julius Cawein
On the tremulous coppice,
From her plenteous hair,
Large golden-rayed poppies
Of moon-litten air
The Night hath flung there.
Sonnet VI
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I CAST this sorrow from me like a crown
Of bitter nettles, and unwholesome weeds,
Nursed by cold night-dews, from malignant seeds,
Ill Fortune sowed, when all the heaven did frown;
The Bride Of The Nile - Act I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Act I Governor's Palace at Alexandria.
Act II Garden House of the Makawkas at On.
Act III On the Banks of the Nile. Time, th Century, A.D.
The Hillside Grave
© Madison Julius Cawein
Ten-hundred deep the drifted daisies break
Here at the hill's foot; on its top, the wheat
The Southern Mother's Charge
© Anonymous
You go, my son, to the battle-field
To repel the invading foe;
'Mid its fiercest conflicts never yield
Till death shall lay you low.
The Voices Of The Ocean
© Robert Laurence Binyon
All the night the voices of ocean around my sleep
Their murmuring undulation sleepless kept.
Rocked in a dream I slept,
Till drawn from trances deep
Adonis
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The gods did love Adonis, and for this
He died, ere time had furrowed his young cheek.
For Aphrodité slew him with a kiss.
He sighed one sigh, as though he fain would speak
Dedication To Lady Windsor
© Alfred Austin
Where violets blue to olives gray
From furrows brown lift laughing eyes,
And silvery Mensola sings its way
Through terraced slopes, nor seeks to stay,
But onward and downward leaps and flies;
Georgic 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven;
Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee,
Miss Pixie
© Lloyd Roberts
Did you ever meet Miss Pixie of the Spruces,
Did you ever glimpse her mocking elfin face,
Did you ever hear her calling while the whip-poor-wills were calling,
And slipped your pack and taken up the chase?
Little Minnie
© Julia A Moore
Alone, all alone
In the grave yard she is sleeping,
That little one we loved so well -
God her little soul is keeping,
For he doeth all things well.
Love Sonnets
© Charles Harpur
How beautiful doth the morning rise
Oer the hills, as from her bower a bride
Comes brightenedblushing with the shame-faced pride
Of love that now consummated supplies
The First American Congress
© Joel Barlow
Columbus looked; and still around them spread,
From south to north, th' immeasurable shade;
Parody Of Uncle Ned
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
DERE was an old nigger, and him name was Uncle Tom,
And him tale was rather slow;
The Song Of Hiawatha II: The Four Winds
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!"
Cried the warriors, cried the old men,
The Wind on the Hills
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Go not to the hills of Erin
When the night winds are about,
Put up your bar and shutter,
And so keep the danger out.
Ode - On the Death of a Young Lady
© John Logan
The peace of Heaven attend thy shade,
My early friend, my favourite maid!
When life was new, companions gay,
We hail'd the morning of our day.
Glucose Self-Monitoring by Katy Giebenhain: American Life in Poetry #33 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laurea
© Ted Kooser
Katy Giebenhain, an American living in Berlin, Germany, depicts a ritual that many diabetics undergo several times per day: testing one’s blood sugar. The poet shows us new ways of looking at what can be an uncomfortable chore by comparing it to other things: tapping trees for syrup, checking oil levels in a car, milking a cow.
The Blind Girl Of Castel-Cuille. (From The Gascon of Jasmin)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
At the foot of the mountain height
Where is perched Castel Cuille,
When the apple, the plum, and the almond tree
In the plain below were growing white,
This is the song one might perceive
On a Wednesday morn of Saint Joseph's Eve: