Nature poems
/ page 108 of 287 /
The Bobolinks
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
WHEN Nature had made all her birds,
With no more cares to think on,
She gave a rippling laugh, and out
There flew a Bobolinkon.
Cynthia, Because Your Horns
© Fulke Greville
CYNTHIA, because your horns look diverse ways,
Now darken'd to the east, now to the west,
Then at full-glory once in thirty days,
Sense doth believe that change is nature's rest.
The Parade.
© Arthur Henry Adams
Along the lamp-lit streets they glide and go:
Here Nature in her brutishness is nude:
See, thinly trickling from the age-old wound,
The steady stream of squandered womanhood!
Fair Dog, Which So My Heart
© Fulke Greville
Kill therefore in the end, and end my anguish,
Give me my death, methinks even time upbraideth
A fullness of the woes, wherein I languish;
Or if thou wilt I live, then pity pleadeth
Help out of thee, since nature hath reveal'd,
That with thy tongue thy bitings may be heal'd.
The Lay of the Last Minstrel: Canto V.
© Sir Walter Scott
Lord Dacre
"Forward, brave champions, to the fight!
Sound trumpets!" -
The Muses Threnodie: Sixth Muse
© Henry Adamson
From thence we passing by the Windy Gowle,
Did make the hollow rocks with echoes yowle,
And all alongst the mountains of Kinnoull,
Where did we shoot at many fox and fowl.
Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 OClock Poems)
© Nazim Hikmet
Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...
The Sleep Of Spring
© John Clare
O for that sweet, untroubled rest
That poets oft have sung!--
The babe upon its mother's breast,
The bird upon its young,
The heart asleep without a pain--
When shall I know that sleep again?
Don Juan: Canto The Seventeenth
© George Gordon Byron
The world is full of orphans: firstly, those
Who are so in the strict sense of the phrase
A Portrait
© Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Tell me, ye prim adepts in Scandals school,
Who rail by precept, and detract by rule,
The Invitation
© Robert Bloomfield
O for the strength to paint my joy once more!
That joy I feel when Winter's reign is o'er;
To Charles Sumner
© John Greenleaf Whittier
If I have seemed more prompt to censure wrong
Than praise the right; if seldom to thine ear
The Optimist
© James Russell Lowell
Turbid from London's noise and smoke,
Here I find air and quiet too;
Air filtered through the beech and oak,
Quiet by nothing harsher broke
Than wood-dove's meditative coo.
The Quaker Widow
© James Bayard Taylor
THEE finds me in the garden, Hannah,come in! T is kind of thee
To wait until the Friends were gone, who came to comfort me.
The still and quiet company a peace may give, indeed,
But blessed is the single heart that comes to us at need.
Lines For Lizer-Jane's Album.
© Joseph Furphy
No two leaves that wave in Arden,
No two grass blades on the plain,
No two flowers that gem the garden,
Show as twins in form or vein,
No two grains of desert sand
Counterpart leave Nature's hand.
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The First
© William Lisle Bowles
Awake a louder and a loftier strain!
Beloved harp, whose tones have oft beguiled
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Poet's Tale; The Birds of Killingworth
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It was the season, when through all the land
The merle and mavis build, and building sing
St. Michael's Mount
© William Lisle Bowles
INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD SOMERS.
While summer airs scarce breathe along the tide,
