Nature poems
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The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son
© George Meredith
Thy knowledge of women might be surpassed:
As any sad dog's of sweet flesh when he quits
The wayside wandering bone!
No revilings of comrades as ingrates: thee
The tempter, misleader, and criminal (screened
By laws yet barbarous) own.
Helen
© Madison Julius Cawein
Heaped in raven loops and masses
Over temples smooth and fair,
Have you marked it, as she passes,
Gleam and shadow mingled there,--
Braided strands of midnight air,--
Helen's hair?
To ****
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
THE world is bright before thee,
Its summer flowers are thine,
Its calm blue sky is o'er thee,
Thy bosom Pleasure's shrine;
A Vision Of The Argonauts
© Richard Monckton Milnes
It is a privilege of great price to walk
With that old sorcerer Fable, hand in hand,
Adown the shadowy vale of History:
There is no other wand potent as his,
The Adirondacs
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Wise and polite,--and if I drew
Their several portraits, you would own
Chaucer had no such worthy crew,
Nor Boccace in Decameron.
The Ancient Banner
© Anonymous
In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
The Song Of Hiawatha VI: Hiawatha's Friends
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Two good friends had Hiawatha,
Singled out from all the others,
Independence
© Charles Churchill
Happy the bard (though few such bards we find)
Who, 'bove controlment, dares to speak his mind;
A Last Word
© Madison Julius Cawein
OH, for some cup of consummating might,
Filled with life's kind conclusion, lost in night!
A wine of darkness, that with death shall cure
This sickness called existence! Oh to find
Sonnet To Spenser
© John Keats
Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine,
A forester deep in thy midmost trees,
Did last eve ask my promise to refine
Some English that might strive thine ear to please.
Seasons
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Oh the cheerful Budding-time!
When thorn-hedges turn to green,
The Departure Of St. Patrick From Scotland
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Twice to your son already has the hand of God been shewn,
Restoring him from alien bonds to be once more your own,
And now it is the self--same hand, dear kinsmen, that to--day
Shall take me for the third time from all I love away.
To A Beautiful Woman
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SURELY, dame Nature made you in some dream
Of old-world women--Chriemhild, or bright
Aslauga, or Boadicea fierce and fair,
Or Berengaria as she rose, her lips
Yet ruddy from the poison that anoints
Her memory still, the queen of queenly wives.
To Edgar Fawcett
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ART thou some reckless poet, fiercely free,
Singing vague songs an errant brain inspires?
Mad with the ravening force of inward fires,
Whose floods o'erwhelm him like a masterless sea?
Satyr VIII. The Picture Of Time
© Thomas Parnell
Methinkes the picture thus instructs my mind
Our hours are fleeting & the last assignd
Soon will it Come too soon alas for most
& all the time we use not well is lost
Brahmā, Vişņu, Śiva
© Rabindranath Tagore
nasad asin, no sad asit tadanim;
nasid raja no vioma paro yat.
kim avarivah? kuha? kasya sarmann?
Ambhah kim asid, gahanam gabhiram?
