Nature poems
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The Indian Lover. Morning Song.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
O'ER flowery fields of waving maize,
The breeze of morning lightly plays;
Arise, my Zumia! let us rove,
The cool and fragrant citron grove!
The Widow To Her Sons Betrothed
© Caroline Norton
I.
AH, cease to plead with that sweet cheerful voice,
Nor bid me struggle with a weight of woe,
Lest from the very tone that says "rejoice"
Funeral Tree of the Sokokis
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Around Sebago's lonely lake
There lingers not a breeze to break
The mirror which its waters make.
My Studio
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
I LOVE it, yet I hardly can tell why
My studio with its window to the sky,
Far up above the noises of the street,
The rumbling carts, the ceaseless tramp of feet;
The Good That I Would I Do Not
© John Newton
I would, but cannot sing,
Guilt has untuned my voice;
The serpent sin's envenomed sting
Has poisoned all my joys.
Spring
© Samuel Johnson
Stern Winter now, by Spring repress'd
Forbears the long-continued strife;
And Nature, on her naked breast,
Delights to catch the gales of life.
The Prophecy of Samuel Sewall
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Up and down the village streets
Strange are the forms my fancy meets,
Grass From The Battle-Field
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Small sheaf
Of withered grass, that hast not yet revealed
Thy story, lo! I see thee once more green
And growing on the battle-field,
On that last day that ever thou didst grow!
The Garden
© John Newton
A Garden contemplation suits,
And may instruction yield,
Sweeter than all the flow'rs and fruits
With which the spot is filled.
A Letter
© James Russell Lowell
From Mr. Hosea Biglow To The Hon. J.T. Buckingham, Editor Of The Boston Courier, Covering A Letter From Mr. B. Sawin, Private In The Massachusetts Regiment
This kind o' sogerin' aint a mite like our October trainin',
The Invitation to Selborne
© Gilbert White
See Selborne spreads her boldest beauties round
The varied valley, and the mountain ground,
Fand, A Feerie Act I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Eithne's Spinning Song
Things of the Earth and things of the Air,
Strengths that we feel though we cannot share,
Shapes that are round us and everywhere.
The Chameleon
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I KNOW that I'm like, yet I am not, a snake!
'Tis true that I glisten by boil and by brake,
That I dart out and in, can glide, quiver and coil
As swift as the lightning, but softer than oil,
Yet a creature more innocent never was drawn
From the gray of cool shadows to bask in the dawn!
On the Place de la Concorde
© Amelia Opie
Proud Seine, along thy winding tide
Fair smiles yon plain expanding wide,
And, deckt with art and nature's pride,
Seems formed for jocund revelry.
The Morning Visit
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
The morning visit,--not till sickness falls
In the charmed circles of your own safe walls;
Till fever's throb and pain's relentless rack
Stretch you all helpless on your aching back;
Not till you play the patient in your turn,
The morning visit's mystery shall you learn.
Jubilate Agno: Fragment B, Part 2
© Christopher Smart
LET PETER rejoice with the MOON FISH who keeps up the life in the waters by night.
Let Andrew rejoice with the Whale, who is array'd in beauteous blue and is a combination of bulk and activity.
Hesiod: Or, The Rise Of Woman
© Thomas Parnell
Gold-scepter'd Juno next exalts the Fair;
Her Touch endows her with imperious Air,
Self-valuing Fancy, highly-crested Pride,
Strong sov'reign Will, and some Desire to chide:
For which, an Eloquence, that aims to vex,
With native Tropes of Anger, arms the Sex.
Peggy
© Robert Burns
O, my luve is like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my love is like a melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
