Nature poems
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From The Conflict Of Convictions
© Herman Melville
_Yea and Nay--_
_Each hath his say;_
_But God He keeps the middle way._
_None was by_
_When He spread the sky;_
_Wisdom is vain, and prophecy._
To a Sea-Gull
© Gerald Griffin
White bird of the tempest! O beautiful thing,
With the bosom of snow, and the motionless wing,
Shall Earth no more inspire thee
© Emily Jane Brontë
Shall Earth no more inspire thee,
Thou lonely dreamer now?
Since passion may not fire thee
Shall Nature cease to bow?
On Ye Queens Death
© Thomas Parnell
The Persians us'd at setting of ye sunn
To howl, as if he nere again should runn
A Story of the Sea-Shore
© George MacDonald
It was a simple tale, a monotone:
She climbed one sunny hill, gazed once abroad,
Then wandered down, to pace a dreary plain;
Alas! how many such are told by night,
In fisher-cottages along the shore!
Rosemary
© Madison Julius Cawein
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay;
Around her, flowers scattered earth with gold,
Or down the path in insolence held sway--
Like cavaliers who ride the elves' highway--
Scarlet and blue, within a garden old.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto V
© Richard Savage
My hermit thus. She beckons us away:
Oh, let us swift the high behest obey!
To Mrs. Thrale on Her Completing Her Thirty-fifth Year
© Samuel Johnson
Oft in danger, yet alive,
We are come to thirty-five;
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto II.
© George Gordon Byron
1
Tambourgi! Tambourgi! thy 'larum afar
Gives hope to the valiant, and promise of war:
All the sons of the mountains arise at the note,
Chimariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote!
Pretence. Part II - The Library
© John Kenyon
From such a world, all touch, all ear, all eye,
What marvel, then, if proud Abstraction fly;
Amid Hercynian shades pursue his theme,
And leave the land of Locke to gold and steam?
Time is a Fading-flowre, that's found
© George Wither
Five Termes, there be, which five I doe apply
To all, that was, and is, and shall be done.
The first, and last, is that ETERNITIE,
The Nobly Born
© James Russell Lowell
Who counts himself as nobly born
Is noble in despite of place;
And honors are but brands to one
Who wears them not with nature's grace.
The Nature Of Love. (From The Italian)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To noble heart Love doth for shelter fly,
As seeks the bird the forest's leafy shade;
The Task : Complete
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
Paracelsus: Part I: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Scene.- Würzburg; a garden in the environs. 1512.
Festus, Paracelsus, Michal.
The Village (book 2)
© George Crabbe
NO longer truth, though shown in verse, disdain,
But own the village life a life of pain;
I too must yield, that oft amid these woes
Are gleams of transient mirth and hours of sweet repose.
The Nomades
© James Russell Lowell
What Nature makes in any mood
To me is warranted for good,
Though long before I learned to see
She did not set us moral theses,
And scorned to have her sweet caprices
Strait-waistcoated in you or me.
The Cock and The Fox
© Robert Henryson
Thogh brutal beestes be irrational,
That is to say, wantand, discretioun,
