Nature poems
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Tyre
© James Bayard Taylor
THE wild and windy morning is lit with lurid fire;
The thundering surf of ocean beats on the rocks of Tyre, --
A Descriptive Ode
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Supposed to have been written under the Ruins of
Rufus's Castle, among the remains of the ancient
Church on the Isle of Portland.
CHAOTIC pile of barren stone,
Mira's Will
© Mary Leapor
IMPRIMIS - My departed Shade I trust
To Heav'n - My Body to the silent Dust;
My Name to publick Censure I submit,
To be dispos'd of as the World thinks fit;
Christmas Day
© Charles Kingsley
How will it dawn, the coming Christmas Day?
A northern Christmas, such as painters love,
The Tear
© Charles Harpur
IT WAS a tale of passion that we read
Of two who loved, not happily, but well!
Tamerton Church-Tower, Or, First Love
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III.
You paint a leaflet, here and there;
And not the blossom: tell
What mysteries of good and fair
These blazon'd letters spell.
Epistle To J. Lapraik (excerpt)
© Robert Burns
I am nae poet, in a sense,
But just a rhymer like by chance,
An' hae to learning nae pretence;
Yet what the matter?
Whene'er my Muse does on me glance,
I jingle at her.
The Shepherd's Week : Saturday; or, The Flights
© John Gay
Bowzybeus.
Sublimer strains, O rustic muse, prepare;
To ----
© George MacDonald
I cannot write old verses here,
Dead things a thousand years away,
When all the life of the young year
Is in the summer day.
To Catharine
© George Moses Horton
I'll love thee as long as I live,
Whate'er thy condition may be;
All else but my life would I give,
That thou wast as partial to me.
A Musing On A Victory
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Down by the Sutlej shore,
Where sound the trumpet and the wild tum-tum,
At winter's eve did come
A gaunt old northern lion, at whose roar
The myriad howlers of thy wilds are dumb,
Blood-stained Ferozepore!
To W.L. Garrison
© James Russell Lowell
In a small chamber, friendless and unseen,
Toiled o'er his types one poor, unlearned young man;
The place was dark, unfurnitured, and mean;
Yet there the freedom of a race began.
Sir Walter Scott
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
DEAD!it was like a thunderbolt
To hear that he was dead;
Though for long weeks the words of fear
Came from his dying bed;
Yet hope denied, and would deny
We did not think that he could die.
In The Winter Woods
© Frederick George Scott
WINTER forests mutely standing
Naked on your bed of snow,
Wide your knotted arms expanding
To the biting winds that blow,
Nought ye heed of storm or stress,
Stubborn, silent, passionless.
Aurora Leigh: Book Seventh
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I broke on Marian there. "Yet she herself,
A wife, I think, had scandals of her own,-
A lover not her husband."
The Origin Of Flattery
© Charlotte Turner Smith
WHEN Jove, in anger to the sons of the earth,
Bid artful Vulcan give Pandora birth,
And sent the fatal gift which spread below
O'er all the wretched race contagious woe,
A Praise Of His Love
© Henry Howard
Give place, ye lovers, here before
That spent your boasts and brags in vain;
My lady's beauty passeth more
The best of yours, I dare well sayn,
Than doth the sun the candle-light,
Or brightest day the darkest night.
A Voyager's Dream Of Land
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
The hollow dash of waves!–the ceaseless roar!
Silence, ye billows! vex my soul no more.
Recollections Of A Dreamland
© James Clerk Maxwell
Rouse ye! torpid daylight-dreamers, cast your carking cares away!
As calm air to troubled water, so my night is to your day;
All the dreary day you labour, groping after common sense,
And your eyes ye will not open on the night's magnificence.
Ye would scow were I to tell you how a guiding radiance gleams
On the outer world of action from my inner world of dreams.
The Pleasures of Memory - Part II.
© Samuel Rogers
Sweet Memory, wafted by thy gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail,
To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours.
Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers.
