Nature poems
/ page 42 of 287 /Sonnet XLII: When Winter Snows
© Samuel Daniel
When Winter snows upon thy golden hairs,
And frost of age hath nipt thy flowers near,
The Nobler Lover
© James Russell Lowell
If he be a nobler lover, take him!
You in you I seek, and not myself;
Book Fourth [Summer Vacation]
© William Wordsworth
BRIGHT was the summer's noon when quickening steps
Followed each other till a dreary moor
Ars Agricolaris
© Henry Van Dyke
An Ode for the Farmer's Dinner, University Club, New York, January 23, 1913
All hail, ye famous Farmers!
From Mount Ebal
© John Bunyan
Thus having heard from Gerizzim, I shall
Next come to Ebal, and you thither call,
The Shepherds Calendar - July
© John Clare
Daughter of pastoral smells and sights
And sultry days and dewy nights
July resumes her yearly place
Wi her milking maiden face
New Year
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
O shame too deep for tongue or pen to tell!
That woman opens wide the door of hell
For man to enter-woman, who should be
As true as truth and pure as purity.
The Inevitable Calm
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE sombre wings of the tempest,
In fetterless force unfurled,
Buffet the face of beauty,
And scar the grace of the world;
The Old Burying-Ground
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Our vales are sweet with fern and rose,
Our hills are maple-crowned;
But not from them our fathers chose
The village burying-ground.
Midsummer In The South
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I LOVE Queen August's stately sway,
And all her fragrant south winds say,
With vague, mysterious meanings fraught,
Of unimaginable thought;
Charity
© Victor Marie Hugo
"Lo! I am Charity," she cries,
"Who waketh up before the day;
While yet asleep all nature lies,
God bids me rise and go my way."
The Cageing Of Ares
© George Meredith
[Iliad, v. V. 385--Dedicated to the Council at The Hague.]
How big of breast our Mother Gaea laughed
Paradise Regain'd : Book III.
© John Milton
So spake the Son of God; and Satan stood
A while as mute, confounded what to say,
What to reply, confuted and convinced
Of his weak arguing and fallacious drift;
Lines Composed In A Concert-Room
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Nor cold nor stern my soul! Yet I detest
These scented rooms, where to a gaudy throug,
Heaves the proud harlot her distended breast
In intricacies of laborious song.
Question And Answer
© Mathilde Blind
"CAN the soul die, believe you?
Because it seems to me
My soul is dead and buried,
So still it seems to be.
Assumption
© Madison Julius Cawein
A mile of moonlight and the whispering wood:
A mile of shadow and the odorous lane:
One large, white star above the solitude,
Like one sweet wish: and, laughter after pain,
Wild-roses wistful in a web of rain.
The Dunciad: Book I.
© Alexander Pope
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings
The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings,
Mrs. Effingham's Swan Song
© Muriel Stuart
I am growing old: I have kept youth too long,
But I dare not let them know it now.
Poetry
© George Meredith
Grey with all honours of age! but fresh-featured and ruddy
As dawn when the drowsy farm-yard has thrice heard Chaunticlere.
Tender to tearfulness-childlike, and manly, and motherly;
Here beats true English blood richest joyance on sweet English ground.