Nature poems
/ page 253 of 287 /To Constantia, Singing
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Thus to be lost and thus to sink and die,
Perchance were death indeed!Constantia, turn!
In thy dark eyes a power like light doth lie,
Une Charogne (The Carcass)
© Charles Baudelaire
Rappelez-vous l'objet que nous vîmes, mon âme,
Ce beau matin d'été si doux:
Au détour d'un sentier une charogne infâme
Sur un lit semé de cailloux,
Laughter And Tears IX
© Khalil Gibran
As the Sun withdrew his rays from the garden, and the moon threw cushioned beams upon the flowers, I sat under the trees pondering upon the phenomena of the atmosphere, looking through the branches at the strewn stars which glittered like chips of silver upon a blue carpet; and I could hear from a distance the agitated murmur of the rivulet singing its way briskly into the valley.
When the birds took shelter among the boughs, and the flowers folded their petals, and tremendous silence descended, I heard a rustle of feet though the grass. I took heed and saw a young couple approaching my arbor. The say under a tree where I could see them without being seen.
The White Cliffs
© Alice Duer Miller
Yet I have loathed those voices when the sense
Of what they said seemed to me insolence,
As if the dominance of the whole nation
Lay in that clear correct enunciation.
Now let no charitable hope
© Elinor Wylie
Now let no charitable hope
Confuse my mind with images
Of eagle and of antelope:
I am by nature none of these.
The Beasts' Confession
© Jonathan Swift
Apply the tale, and you shall find,
How just it suits with human kind.
Some faults we own: but, can you guess?
Why?--virtues carried to excess,
Wherewith our vanity endows us,
Though neither foe nor friend allows us.
Verses on the Death of Doctor Swift
© Jonathan Swift
As Rochefoucauld his maxims drew
From nature, I believe 'em true:
They argue no corrupted mind
In him; the fault is in mankind.
To Stella, Who Collected and Transcribed His Poems
© Jonathan Swift
As, when a lofty pile is raised,
We never hear the workmen praised,
Who bring the lime, or place the stones;
But all admire Inigo Jones:
Peter
© Marianne Clarke Moore
Strong and slippery,
built for the midnight grass-party
confronted by four cats, he sleeps his time away--
the detached first claw on the foreleg corresponding
A Grave
© Marianne Clarke Moore
Man looking into the sea,
taking the view from those who have as much right to it as
you have to it yourself,
it is human nature to stand in the middle of a thing,
Night Hymns on Lake Nipigon
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Here in the midnight, where the dark mainland and island
Shadows mingle in shadow deeper, profounder,
Sing we the hymns of the churches, while the dead water
Whispers before us.
An Autumn Homily
© Alfred Austin
Here let us sit beneath this oak, and hear
The acorns fitfully fall one by one,
The Sorrows of the Blind
© William Topaz McGonagall
Pity the sorrows of the poor blind,
For they can but little comfort find;
As they walk along the street,
They know not where to put their feet.
The Voyage Of Columbus
© Samuel Rogers
Unclasp me, Stranger; and unfold,
With trembling care my leaves of gold,
Rich in gothic portraiture--
If yet, alas, a leaf endure.
The River of Leith
© William Topaz McGonagall
As I stood upon the Dean Bridge and viewed the beautiful scenery,
I felt fascinated and my heart was full of glee,
And I exclaimed in an ecstasy of delight,
In all my travels I never saw such a sight.
A Poet's Home
© Charles Harpur
HERE in this lonely rill-engirdled spot,
The world forgetting, by the world forgot,
With one vowed to me with beloved lips
How sweet to draw, as hiddenly from time,
As from its rocks yon shaded fountain slips,
My yet remaining prime.
The Book Of Creation
© John Newton
The book of nature open lies,
With much instruction stored;
But till the Lord anoints our eyes
We cannot read a word.
Within The Gate
© John Greenleaf Whittier
L. M. C.
We sat together, last May-day, and talked
Of the dear friends who walked
Beside us, sharers of the hopes and fears
Of five and forty years,