Nature poems

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Tannhauser

© Emma Lazarus

Far into Wartburg, through all Italy,
In every town the Pope sent messengers,
Riding in furious haste; among them, one
Who bore a branch of dry wood burst in bloom;
The pastoral rod had borne green shoots of spring,
And leaf and blossom. God is merciful.

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New-Englands Crisis

© Benjamin Tompson

IN seventy five the Critick of our years

Commenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.

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Burns

© John Greenleaf Whittier

No more these simple flowers belong
To Scottish maid and lover;
Sown in the common soil of song,
They bloom the wide world over.

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The Ghost - Book III

© Charles Churchill

It was the hour, when housewife Morn

With pearl and linen hangs each thorn;

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The Will

© John Donne

Before I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,

 Great Love, some legacies ; I here bequeath

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I Shall Forget You Presently, My Dear

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

I shall forget you presently, my dear,

So make the most of this, your little day,

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Sonnet

© Charles Kingsley

Oh, thou hadst been a wife for Shakspeare's self!

No head, save some world-genius, ought to rest

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Fragment Of A Satire On Satire

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

If gibbets, axes, confiscations, chains,
And racks of subtle torture, if the pains
Of shame, of fiery Hell’s tempestuous wave,
Seen through the caverns of the shadowy grave,

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The Forest Sanctuary - Part II.

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

  Ave, sanctissima!
'Tis night-fall on the sea;
  Ora pro nobis!
Our souls rise to thee!

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The Traveller; or, A Prospect of Society

© Oliver Goldsmith

Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow

Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,

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Blind Old Milton

© William Edmondstoune Aytoun

Place me once more, my daughter, where the sun

May shine upon my old and time-worn head,

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Don Juan: Canto The Sixth

© George Gordon Byron

'There is a tide in the affairs of men

Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest,

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A Sabbath Scene

© John Greenleaf Whittier

SCARCE had the solemn Sabbath-bell
Ceased quivering in the steeple,
Scarce had the parson to his desk
Walked stately through his people,

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To The Duke Of Dorset

© George Gordon Byron

Dorset! whose early steps with mine have stray'd,

Exploring every path of Ida's glade;

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O Who Will Speak From a Womb or a Cloud?

© George Barker

Not less light shall the gold and the green lie

On the cyclonic curl and diamonded eye, than

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A Farm House by the River

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

I know a little country place

 Where still my heart doth linger,

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The Four Seasons : Autumn

© James Thomson

Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost

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The Progress of Spring

© Alfred Tennyson

THE groundflame of the crocus breaks the mould,

 Fair Spring slides hither o'er the Southern sea,

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Wind-Clouds And Star-Drifts

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

Here am I, bound upon this pillared rock,
Prey to the vulture of a vast desire
That feeds upon my life. I burst my bands
And steal a moment's freedom from the beak,
The clinging talons and the shadowing plumes;
Then comes the false enchantress, with her song;