Pet poems
/ page 19 of 126 /Claire
© Victor Marie Hugo
Quoi donc ! la vôtre aussi ! la vôtre suit la mienne !
O mère au coeur profond, mère, vous avez beau
Laisser la porte ouverte afin qu'elle revienne,
Cette pierre là-bas dans l'herbe est un tombeau !
The Chalice of Circe
© Muriel Stuart
DRINK of our Cup-of the red wine that burns in it,
All the wild shames that have crusted its mouth,
Passion that twists in it, Madness that churns in it,
Fever that yearns in it, Folly that turns in it,
Drink of our Cup! It is Love, it is Youth!
Fiddler Of Dooney
© William Butler Yeats
WHEN I play on my fiddle in Dooney.
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
The Peaks Of Valor
© Edgar Albert Guest
These are the peaks of valor; keeping clean your father's name,
Too brave for petty profit to risk the brand of shame,
Adventuring for the future, yet mindful of the past,
For God, for country and for home, still valorous to the last.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - January
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
The Story Of Glaucus The Thessalian
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Up to the deep founts of the tenderest eyes
That e'er have shone, I think, since in some dell
Of Argos and enchanted Thessaly,
The poet, from whose heart-lit brain it came,
Murmured this record unto her he loved?
Drought
© Flexmore Hudson
Midsummer noon: and the timbered walls
start in the heat;
and the children sag listlessly over the desks,
with bloodless faces oozing sweat
sipped by the stinging flies.
Five Prayers
© Blanche Edith Baughan
TO taste
Wild wine of the mountain-spring, fresh, living, strong,
Under The Old Elm
© James Russell Lowell
Placid completeness, life without a fall
From faith or highest aims, truth's breachless wall,
Surely if any fame can bear the touch,
His will say 'Here!' at the last trumpet's call,
The unexpressive man whose life expressed so much.
The Little Dog
© Jean de La Fontaine
'TWOULD endless prove, and nothing would avail,
Each lover's pain minutely to detail:
Their arts and wiles; enough 'twill be no doubt,
To say the lady's heart was found so stout,
She let them sigh their precious hours away,
And scarcely seemed emotion to betray.
Book Tenth {Residence in France continued]
© William Wordsworth
IT was a beautiful and silent day
That overspread the countenance of earth,
The Tower
© Robert Nichols
Thus Jesus discoursed, and was silent, sitting upright, and soon
Past the casement behind him slanted the sinking moon;
And, rising for Olivet, all stared, between love and dread,
Seeing the torrid moon a ruddy halo behind his head.
Reynard The Fox - Part 2
© John Masefield
Down in the village men awoke,
The chimneys breathed with a faint blue smoke;
The fox slept on, though tweaks and twitches,
Due to his dreams, ran down his flitches.
The Deserted
© Katharine Tynan
Thou Who wert kindest of the kind --
Since out of sight is out of mind --
There's none to do Thee kindnesses
In Thy last anguish and distress.
Thou art left all alone, alone.
Where are Thy faithful lovers flown?
In the Garden the Chrysanthemums Were Dying...
© Kostas Karyotakis
In the garden the chrysanthemums were dying
like desires when you came. Calmly
you laughed, like little white flowers.
Silent, I made a sweetest song
out of the darkness deep within me
and the petals sing it up above you.
The Rose And The Bee
© Sara Teasdale
IF I were a bee and you were a rose,
Would you let me in when the gray wind blows?
Would you hold your petals wide apart,
Would you let me in to find your heart,
If you were a rose?
The Silver Box
© Alice Guerin Crist
Old tales of valour fire our blood
But this, the bravest deed I know
Is written of our modern times,
No myth of long ago.
Ode
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Delivered on the first anniversary of the Carolina Art Association, Feb. 10, 1856.
THERE are two worlds wherein our souls may dwell,
With discord, or ethereal music fraught,
One the loud mart wherein men buy and sell