Poems begining by N
/ page 9 of 55 /Nature The Consoler
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
GLADLY I hail these solitudes, and breathe
The inspiring breath of the fresh woodland air,
Most gladly to the past alone bequeath
Doubt, grief, and care;
No News From The War
© Augusta Davies Webster
"IS she sitting in the meadow
Where the brook leaps to the mill,
Leaning low against the poplar,
Dreamily and still?
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet XVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Among the rest ('twas thus his dream went on
While Adrian slept) in more than courteous mood
And smiling welcome, fairer scarce was none,
That noble knight Natalia's husband stood,
Naples 1860
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I GIVE thee joy!I know to thee
The dearest spot on earth must be
Where sleeps thy loved one by the summer sea;
New-Englands Crisis
© Benjamin Tompson
IN seventy five the Critick of our years
Commenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.
Nowhere to Lay His Head
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
They shall see Him in his beauty,
And walk with Him in white.
Now The Day Is Over
© Sabine Baring-Gould
Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.
Nauhaught, The Deacon
© John Greenleaf Whittier
NAUHAUGHT, the Indian deacon, who of old
Dwelt, poor but blameless, where his narrowing Cape
Nacken - Water Demon
© Erik Johan Stagnelius
The evening is festooned with golden clouds
the fairies dance in the meadow
and the leaf-crowned Nacken
plays his fiddle in the silvery brook.
Nonpareil
© Matthew Prior
Let others from the Town retire,
And in the fields seek new delight;
My Phillis does such joys inspire,
No other objects please my sight.
No Room For Hate
© Edgar Albert Guest
We have room for the man with an honest dream,
With his heart on fire and his eyes agleam;
We have room for the man with a purpose true,
Who comes to our shores to start life anew,
But we haven't an inch of space for him
Who comes to plot against life and limb.
Near Perigord
© Ezra Pound
I
You'd have men's hearts up from the dust
And tell their secrets, Messire Cino,
Rigkt enough? Then read between the lines of Uc St. Circ,
Solve me the riddle, for you know the tale.
Night-Bound.
© Robert Crawford
Comes the night that brings me rest,
Comes the dark that folds me in
This of all my nights the best,
Nights of virtue, nights of sin.
New College Gardens, Oxford
© Edith Nesbit
The enchantment of the dreaming limes,
The magic of the quiet hours,
Breathe unheard tales of other times
And other destinies than ours;
Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet IX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Thus Adrian learned it. And behold, his heart,
Which he had hardened against all dismay,
And wrapped up secretly and laid apart
As something which should not be used to--day,