Nature poems
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White Sand
© Anderson Robert Thompson
Blue waves lap on the long low shore, And the dark clouds cast their quivering shade;The dancing launch leaps lightly before The heaving swell that the wind hath made;And over the rushes bending green, Reaching outward across the strandWe look to the beach so white and clean
The Old Timer
© Anderson Robert Thompson
Far, far across the rolling swale, I've watched the bison pass;I've seen the lonely prairie trail Wind thro' the rustling grass;I've felt the cool winds sweep the plain Where Nature's hand is free;But now they break o'er leagues of grain, Like ripples o'er the sea
The Pleasures of Imagination
© Mark Akenside
BOOK IOf Nature touches the consenting heartsOf mortal men; and what the pleasing storesWhich beauteous imitation thence derivesTo deck the poet's, or the painter's toil;My verse unfolds
Ode to the Country Gentlemen of England
© Mark Akenside
Thou, heedless Albion, what, alas, the while Dost thou presume? O inexpert in arms, Yet vain of freedom, how dost thou beguile, With dreams of hope, these near and loud alarms? Thy splendid home, thy plan of laws renown'd, The praise and envy of the nations round, What care hast thou to guard from fortune's sway? Amid the storms of war, how soon may all The lofty pile from its foundations fall,Of ages the proud toil, the ruin of a day!
No: thou art rich, thy streams and fertile vales Add industry's wise gifts to nature's store: And every port is crowded with thy sails, And every wave throws treasure on thy shore
The Campaign
© Joseph Addison
While crowds of princes your deserts proclaim,Proud in their number to enroll your name;While emperors to you commit their cause,And Anna's praises crown the vast applause,Accept, great leader, what the muse indites,That in ambitious verse records your fights,Fir'd and transported with a theme so new:Ten thousand wonders op'ning to my viewShine forth at once, sieges and storms appear,And wars and conquests fill th' important year,Rivers of blood I see, and hills of slain;An Iliad rising out of one campaign
The Wants of Man
© Adams John Quincy
Man wants but little here below,Nor wants that little long. -- Goldsmith's Hermit
Burial of Barber
© John Greenleaf Whittier
One more look of that dead face,
Of his murder's ghastly trace!
One more kiss, O widowed one!
Lay your left hands on his brow,
Lift you right hands up and vow
That his work shall yet be done.
"The Undying One" - Canto III
© Caroline Norton
"I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!
Epipsychidion
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sweet Spirit! Sister of that orphan one,
Whose empire is the name thou weepest on,
In my heart's temple I suspend to thee
These votive wreaths of withered memory.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 03 - The World Is Not Eternal
© Lucretius
Is rendered back; and since, beyond a doubt,
Earth, the all-mother, is beheld to be
Likewise the common sepulchre of things,
Therefore thou seest her minished of her plenty,
And then again augmented with new growth.
Vaudracour And Julia
© William Wordsworth
O HAPPY time of youthful lovers (thus
My story may begin) O balmy time,
In which a love-knot on a lady's brow
Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven!
To The Spade Of A Friend (An Agriculturist)
© William Wordsworth
SPADE! with which Wilkinson hath tilled his lands,
And shaped these pleasant walks by Emont's side,
Thou art a tool of honour in my hands;
I press thee, through the yielding soil, with pride.
Occasioned By The Battle Of Waterloo February 1816
© William Wordsworth
INTREPID sons of Albion! not by you
Is life despised; ah no, the spacious earth
Our Saviour And The Samaritan Woman At The Well
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Close beside the crystal waters of Jacobs far-famed well,
Whose dewy coolness gratefully upon the parched air fell,
Reflecting back the bright hot heavens within its waveless breast,
Jesus, foot-sore and weary, had sat Him down to rest.
Henry And Emma. A Poem.
© Matthew Prior
Where beauteous Isis and her husband Thame
With mingled waves for ever flow the same,
In times of yore an ancient baron lived,
Great gifts bestowed, and great respect received.
Ode to Fear
© William Taylor Collins
Epode
In earliest Greece, to thee, with partial choice,
The grief-full muse addrest her infant tongue;
The maids and matrons, on her awful voice,
Silent and pale, in wild amazement hung.
Paracelsus: Part II: Paracelsus Attains
© Robert Browning
Ay, my brave chronicler, and this same hour
As well as any: now, let my time be!
The Old Camp Fire
© Francis Bret Harte
Now shift the blanket pad before your saddle back you fling,
And draw your cinch up tighter till the sweat drops from the ring:
We've a dozen miles to cover ere we reach the next divide.
Our limbs are stiffer now than when we first set out to ride,
And worse, the horses know it, and feel the leg-grip tire,
Since in the days when, long ago, we sought the old camp-fire.
