Morning poems

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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.

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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;

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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.

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The Hillside Grave

© Madison Julius Cawein

Ten-hundred deep the drifted daisies break

  Here at the hill's foot; on its top, the wheat

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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.

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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

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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

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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;

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Georgic 2

© Publius Vergilius Maro

Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven;

Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee,

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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?

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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.

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Love Sonnets

© Charles Harpur

How beautiful doth the morning rise
  O’er the hills, as from her bower a bride
  Comes brightened—blushing with the shame-faced pride
Of love that now consummated supplies

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The First American Congress

© Joel Barlow

Columbus looked; and still around them spread,

From south to north, th' immeasurable shade;

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Mary

© Edgar Albert Guest

She was gentle, she was true,

And her tender eyes of blue

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Parody Of “Uncle Ned”

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

DERE was an old nigger, and him name was Uncle Tom,

And him tale was rather slow;

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The Song Of Hiawatha II: The Four Winds

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!"

Cried the warriors, cried the old men,

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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.

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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.

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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.


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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: