Poems begining by S
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Stolen Heart
© Arthur Rimbaud
Ithypallic and soldierish
Their jeerings have depraved it
In the rudder you see frescoes
Ithypallic and soldierish
O, abracadabratic waves
Take my heart, let it be washed!
Svend Vonved
© George Borrow
Svend Vonved sits in his lonely bower;
He strikes his harp with a hand of power;
His harp return'd a responsive din;
Then came his mother hurrying in:
Look out, look out, Svend Vonved.
Sydney-Side
© Henry Lawson
Oh, there never dawned a morning, in the long and lonely days,
But I thought I saw the ferries streaming out across the bays
And as fresh and fair in fancy did the picture rise again
As the sunrise flushed the city from Woollahra to Balmain:
Sonnet XCVII: A Superscription
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been;
I am also called No-more, Too-late, Farewell;
Sonnet. On Peace
© John Keats
O PEACE! and dost thou with thy presence bless
The dwellings of this war-surrounded Isle;
Sonnet XVII. Composed On A Journey Homeward; The Author Having Received Intelligence Of The Birth O
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Oft o'er my brain does that strange fancy roll
Which makes the present (while the flash dost last)
Seem a mere semblance of some unknown past,
Mixed with such feelings, as perplex the soul
Song
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
O STAY, Madonna! stay;
'Tis not the dawn of day
That marks the skies with yonder opal streak:
The stars in silence shine;
Then press thy lips to mine,
And rest upon my neck thy fervid cheek.
Separation
© Robert Laurence Binyon
We parted at golden dawn.
I feasted my last on her eyes,
And journeyed, journeyed alone:
Mountains and cities and skies
Sonnet 64: "When I have seen by Time's fell hand defac'd..."
© William Shakespeare
When I have seen by Time's fell hand defac'd
The rich proud cost of outworn buried age;
Sonnet LXXXIX: The Trees of the Garden
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Ye who have passed Death's haggard hills; and ye
Whom trees that knew your sires shall cease to know
Street Light
© John Crowe Ransom
THE shine of many city streets
Confuses any countryman;
It flickers here and flashes there,
It goes as soon as it began,
It beckons many ways at once
For him to follow if he can.
Sailormen
© Harry Kemp
When our ship gets home again, after cruising up and down,
Where the old, familiar hills crowd above the little town,
Oh, we'll reef the weary sails in the shelter of the bay,
And we'll find it just the same as the hour we went away
With the steeple of the church through the tree tops peering out,
With same accustomed streets, and the friends we knew, about.
Song of The Coffle Gang
© Anonymous
This song is said to be sung by Slaves, as they are chained in gangs,
when parting from friends for the far off South-children taken from
parents, husbands from wives, and brothers from sisters.
Saint Monica
© Charlotte Turner Smith
AMONG deep woods is the dismantled scite
Of an old Abbey, where the chaunted rite,
Slave And Emperor
© Alfred Noyes
Yet, in the darkest hour of all,
When black defeat began,
The Emperor heard the mountains quake,
He felt the graves beneath him shake,
He watched his legions rally and break,
And he whimpered as they ran.
Soul-Drift
© Mathilde Blind
I LET my soul drift with the thistledown
Afloat upon the honeymooning breeze;
My thoughts about the swelling buds are blown,
Blown with the golden dust of flowering trees.
Song II
© Sara Teasdale
Like some rare queen of old romance
Who loved the gleam of helm and lance
Is she.
A harper of King Arthur's days
Sonnet XV. To Schiller
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Schiller! that hour I would have wished to die,
If thro' the shudd'ring midnight I had sent
From the dark Dungeon of the Tower time-rent
That fearful voice, a famished Father's cry--
