Nature poems
/ page 2 of 287 /A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty
© Edmund Spenser
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
Astrophel and Stella: XLI
© Sir Philip Sidney
Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance
Guided so well that I obtain'd the prize,
Astrophel and Stella: LXXI
© Sir Philip Sidney
Who will in fairest book of nature know
How virtue may best lodg'd in beauty be,
Astrophel and Stella: III
© Sir Philip Sidney
Let dainty wits cry on the sisters nine,
That, bravely mask'd, their fancies may be told;
Astrophel and Stella VII: WhenNature Made her Chief Work
© Sir Philip Sidney
When Nature made her chief work, Stella's eyes,
In colour black why wrapt she beams so bright?
Astrophel and Stella
© Sir Philip Sidney
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
The Recollection
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
NOW the last day of many days,
All beautiful and bright as thou,
Hymn to the Spirit of Nature
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
LIFE of Life! thy lips enkindle
With their love the breath between them;
And thy smiles before they dwindle
Make the cold air fire: then screen them
In those locks where whoso gazes 5
Faints entangled in their mazes.
The Rose that Grew from Concrete
© Tupac Shakur
Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Sonnet XVIII: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
© William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Snapshots of a Daughter-In-Law
© Adrienne Rich
You, once a belle in Shreveport,
with henna-colored hair, skin like a peachbud,
still have your dresses copied from that time,
and play a Chopin prelude
called by Cortot: "Delicious recollections
float like perfume through the memory."
Rural Reflections
© Adrienne Rich
This is the grass your feet are planted on.
You paint it orange or you sing it green,
But you have never found
A way to make the grass mean what you mean.
Paula Becker to Clara Westhoff
© Adrienne Rich
The autumn feels slowed down,
summer still holds on here, even the light
Davis Matlock
© Edgar Lee Masters
Suppose it is nothing but the hive:
That there are drones and workers
Resignation
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
THERE is no flock however watched and tended
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside howsoe'er defended
But has one vacant chair!
Bridal Song
© John Gould Fletcher
ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;
The Tale Of The Forest
© Mihai Eminescu
Mighty emperor is the forest,
High dominion does he wield,
And a thousand races prosper
'Neath the shelter of his shield.