Nature poems
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Aurora Leigh: Book Fifth
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
"A flower, a flower," exclaimed
My German student,-his own eyes full-blown
Bent on her. He was twenty, certainly.
A Mood
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
A blight, a gloom, I know not what, has crept upon my gladness-
Some vague, remote ancestral touch of sorrow, or of madness;
A fear that is not fear, a pain that has not pain's insistence;
A sense of longing, or of loss, in some foregone exsistence;
A subtle hurt that never pen has writ nor tongue has spoken-
Such hurt perchance as Nature feels wen a blossomed bough is broken.
Thanksgiving
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Let us give thanks to God above,
Thanks for expressions of His love,
Seen in the book of nature, grand
Taught by His love on every hand.
Upper Austria
© John Kenyon
And he had comment, full and clear,
The fruit of many a travelled year;
But more, by meditation brought
From inner depths of silent thought;
Or fresh from fountain, never dry,
Of undisturbed humanity.
Sonnet 81: Oh Kiss, Which Dost
© Sir Philip Sidney
Oh kiss, which dost those ruddy gems impart,
Or gems, or fruits of new-found Paradise,
Breathing all bliss and sweet'ning to the heart,
Teaching dumb lips a nobler exercise;
The Preacher
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The impulse spread like the outward course
Of waters moved by a central force;
The tide of spiritual life rolled down
From inland mountains to seaboard town.
The Pastime of Pleasure: Of dysposycyon the II. parte of rethoryke - (til line 3950)
© Stephen Hawes
Of the merualyos argument bytwene Mars and fortune. Ca. xxvij.
3018 Besyde this toure of olde foundacyon
3019 There was a temple strongly edefyed
3020 To the hygh honoure and reputacyon
Pompeii
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
A Poem Which Obtained the Chancellor's Medal at the Cambridge Commencement, July 1819.
Oh! land to Memory and to Freedom dear,
To Giovanni Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
These verses also to thy praise the Nine
Oh Manso! happy in that theme design,
A Morning Exercise
© William Wordsworth
Through border wilds where naked Indians stray,
Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;
A feathered task-master cries, "WORK AWAY!"
And, in thy iteration, "WHIP POOR WILL!"
Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave,
Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave.
Simulacra
© Madison Julius Cawein
Dark in the west the sunset's somber wrack
Unrolled vast walls the rams of war had split,
Evening
© Annie McCarer Darlington
'Tis Evening! soul enchanting hour,
And queenly silence reigns supreme;
A shade is cast o'er lake and bower,
All nature sinks beneath the power
Of sweet oblivion's dream.
Records of Romantic Passion
© Charles Harpur
THERES a rare Soul of Poesy which may be
But concentrated by the chastened dreams
Smaller than the smallest atom
© Sant Tukaram
Smaller than the smallest atom,
All embracing as the heavens,
Tuka views the world objective -
Name and form as all delusion -
Naturethe Gentlest Mother is
© Emily Dickinson
Naturethe Gentlest Mother is,
Impatient of no Child
The feeblestor the waywardest
Her Admonition mild
Sumner
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O Mother State! the winds of March
Blew chill o'er Auburn's Field of God,
Where, slow, beneath a leaden arch
Of sky, thy mourning children trod.
The Pimlico Pavilion
© William Makepeace Thackeray
Ye pathrons of janius, Minerva and Vanius,
Who sit on Parnassus, that mountain of snow,
Descind from your station and make observation
Of the Prince's pavilion in sweet Pimlico.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
The Younger Brutus
© Giacomo Leopardi
When in the Thracian dust uprooted lay,
In ruin vast, the strength of Italy,
Italy : 51. Marco Griffoni
© Samuel Rogers
War is a game at which all are sure to lose, sooner or
later, play they how they will; yet every nation has
delighted in war, and none more in their day than the
little republic of Genoa, whose galleys, while she had
