Poems begining by S
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Sonnet
© Arthur Symons
Yea, why should God, seeing that you are loft,
Not by the scented devils of your pride?
Now at the mercy of the Teraphims
You are hurled onward by the wandering host
Of winds that in the Midnight's heart abide
Naked between the Dragon's writhing limbs.
Songs Set To Music: 2. Set By Mr. Purcell
© Matthew Prior
Whither would my passion run?
Shall I fly her, or pursue her?
Losing her I am undone,
Yet would not gain her to undo her.
Sonnet XCVIII: He and I
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Whence came his feet into my field, and why?
How is it that he sees it all so drear?
Sonnet 97: Dian, That Fain Would Cheer
© Sir Philip Sidney
Dian, that fain would cheer her friend the Night,
Shows her oft at the full her fairest race,
Bringing with her those starry nymphs, whose chase
From heav'nly standing hits each mortal wight.
Spiritual Education.
© Robert Crawford
Within time's stress, amid the facts of life,
Not in monastic solitudes, we find
A way to that is higher than ourselves.
Sonnet 38: The Children of the Night
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
Oh, brother men, if you have eyes at all,
Look at a branch, a bird, a child, a rose,
Or anything God ever made that grows,
Nor let the smallest vision of it slip,
Till you may read, as on Belshazzars wall,
The glory of eternal partnership.
Sonnet XXII
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
My soul is a stiff pageant, man by man,
Of some Egyptian art than Egypt older,
Sonnet Addressed To William Hayley, Esq.
© William Cowper
Hayley, thy tenderness fraternal shown
In our first interview, delightful guest!
To Mary and me for her dear sake distressed,
Such as it is has made my heart thy own,
Sonnet XLIV: O Be Not Griev'd
© Samuel Daniel
O be not griev'd that these my papers should
Betray unto the world how fair thou art,
Smells
© Christopher Morley
WHY is it that the poet tells
So little of the sense of smell?
These are the odors I love well:
Self-Study
© James Russell Lowell
A presence both by night and day,
That made my life seem just begun,
Yet scarce a presence, rather say
The warning aureole of one.
Sonnet 74: I Never Drank
© Sir Philip Sidney
I never drank of Aganippe well,
Nor ever did in shade of Tempe sit,
And Muses scorn with vulgar brains to swell;
Poor layman I, for sacred rites unfit.
Song III
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
She sat and sang alway
By the green margin of a stream,
Watching the fishes leap and play
Beneath the glad sunbeam.
Soneto de Natal
© Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
Um homem, era aquela noite amiga,
Noite cristã, berço do Nazareno,
Ao relembrar os dias de pequeno,
E a viva dança, e a lépida cantiga,
Song Of Proserpine While Gathering Flowers On The Plain Of Enna
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth,
Thou from whose immortal bosom
Gods, and men, and beasts have birth,
Sonnet III.
© John Milton
Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera
L'avezza giovinetta pastorella
Va bagnando l'herbetta strana e bella
Che mal si spande a disusata spera
Sonnets LXXIV: LXXV:LXXVI: Old and New Art
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I. ST. LUKE THE PAINTER
Give honour unto Luke Evangelist;
Something Else Should Die:
© Eli Siegel
A Poem with Rhymes
In April 1865
Abraham Lincoln died.
In April 1968
Surrender
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Pale was the early day,
Fog--white the winter air,
When up a hill--side bare,
Roughened with rimy grass,
I took my thoughtless way.
