Morning poems
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That Great Waiting Silence
© Henry Lawson
WHERE shall we go for prophecy? Where shall we go for proof?
The holiday street is crowded, pavement, window and roof;
Band and banner pass by us, and the old tunes rise and fall
But that great waiting silence is on the people all!
Home From The Daisied Meadows
© Robert Louis Stevenson
Home from the daisied meadows, where you linger yet -
Home, golden-headed playmate, ere the sun is set;
An Eclogue
© Thomas Parnell
Now early shepheards ore ye meadow pass,
And print long foot-steps in the glittering grass;
The Cows unfeeding near the cottage stand,
By turns obedient to the Milkers hand,
Or loytring stretch beneath an Oaken shade,
Or lett the suckling Calf defraud the maid.
A January Morning
© Archibald Lampman
The glittering roofs are still with frost; each worn
Black chimney builds into the quiet sky
In Memoriam A. H. H.
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
Liberty
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The fiery mountains answer each other;
Their thunderings are echoed from zone to zone;
The tempestuous oceans awake one another,
And the ice-rocks are shaken round Winter's throne,
When the clarion of the Typhoon is blown.
Charity
© William Cowper
Fairest and foremost of the train that wait
On man's most dignified and happiest state,
A Memorial tribute
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
LEADER of armies, Israel's God,
Thy soldier's fight is won!
Master, whose lowly path he trod,
Thy servant's work is done!
Penuel
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
NEAR Jabbok Ford, endued with sacred might,
The patriarch strove with one that silent came,
Obscurely limned against the twilight flame--
Strove thro' slow watches of the marvellous night!
Paracelsus: Part III: Paracelsus
© Robert Browning
Paracelsus.
Heap logs and let the blaze laugh out!
Sheep In Fog
© Sylvia Plath
The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.
The Christian
© John Crowe Ransom
I HEARD a story of a sailing man.
He was a surly sort of mariner,
He used to swear at all the seven seas,
And rode them dauntless up and down the earth.
The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - Ara Of The Saints
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Hearing how blessed Enda lived apart,
Amid the sacred caves of Ara-mhor,
And how beneath his eye, spread like a chart,
Lay all the isles of that remotest shore;
The Dance To Death. Act II
© Emma Lazarus
LANDGRAVE.
Who tells thee of my son's love for the Jewess?
Rhymes Of A Life-Time
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FROM the first gleam of morning to the gray
Of peaceful evening, lo, a life unrolled!
Hermann And Dorothea - IX. Urania
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
O YE Muses, who gladly favour a love that is heartfelt,
Who on his way the excellent youth have hitherto guided,
Who have press'd the maid to his bosom before their betrothal,
Help still further to perfect the bonds of a couple so loving,
Drive away the clouds which over their happiness hover!
But begin by saying what now in the house has been passing.
The Castle By The Sea. (From The German Of Uhland)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Hast thou seen that lordly castle,
That Castle by the Sea?
Golden and red above it
The clouds float gorgeously.
