Poems begining by S
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Song XI. - Perhaps it is not love
© William Shenstone
Perhaps it is not love, said I,
That melts my soul when Flavia's nigh;
Where wit and sense like hers agree,
One may be pleased, and yet be free.
Sisina
© Charles Baudelaire
Imaginez Diane en galant équipage,
Parcourant les forêts ou battant les halliers,
Cheveux et gorge au vent, s'enivrant de tapage,
Superbe et défiant les meilleurs cavaliers!
Songs In A Cornfield
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Where is he gone to
And why does he stay?
He came across the green sea
But for a day,
Across the deep green sea
To help with the hay.
Sunset.
© Arthur Henry Adams
WHAT horror lurked within the First Man's brain
As downward to the West the Sun-god stepped,
And paused upon the hill-ridge, ere he leapt
Headlong into the night! What cold, dumb pain
Socks
© Jessie Pope
Shining pins that dart and click
In the firesides sheltered peace
Check the thoughts the cluster thick -
20 plain and then decrease.
Sonnet IX. To Priestley
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Tho' roused by that dark Visir riot rude
Have driven our Priestly o'er the ocean swell;
Tho' Superstition and her wolfish brood
Bay his mild radiance, impotent and fell;
Sonnet XLI : Through Death to Love
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Like labour-laden moonclouds faint to flee
From winds that sweep the winter-bitten wold,
Saint Germain-En-Laye
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Through the green boughs I hardly saw thy face,
They twined so close: the sun was in mine eyes;
And now the sullen trees in sombre lace
Stand bare beneath the sinister, sad skies.
Sunsets
© Arthur Symons
And as I wake and wander always these are woven
With my most feverish dreams, the heat of midnight cloven
With feet of fire, hell's lightning and hell's thunder
That mix and mingle in a perilous confusion;
And over and above me, mists of disillusion,
That, as the heart of darkness opens, are rent asunder.
Sonnet XXI. To Cyriac Skinner
© John Milton
Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounc'd and in his volumes taught our laws
Which others at their bar so often wrench;
Sonnet XVIII: On The Late Massacre In Piemont
© John Milton
Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones
Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,
Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
When all our fathers worshipp'd stocks and stones;
Sonnet XXXVIII: I Once May See
© Samuel Daniel
I once may see when years shall wreck my wrong,
When golden hairs shall change to silver wire,
Summer Storm
© Bliss William Carman
THE hilltop trees are bowing
Under the coming of storm.
The low gray clouds are trailing
Like squadrons that sweep and form,
Sonnet: Le vierge, le vivace
© Stéphane Mallarme
The virginal, living and lovely day
Will it fracture for us with a drunken wing-blow
This solid lost lake whose frosts haunted below
By the transparent glacier of flights not made?
Spring Twilight
© Madison Julius Cawein
The sun set late, and left along the West
One furious ruby rare, whose rosy rays
Poured in a slumb'rous cloud's pear-curdled breast,
Blossomed to peachy sprays.
Suppose
© Walter de la Mare
Suppose ... and suppose that a wild little Horse of Magic
Came cantering out of the sky,
With bridle of silver, and into the saddle I mounted,
To fly and to fly;
Since Bearing Of A Gentle Mind
© Thomas Parnell
Since bearing of a Gentle mind
Woud make you perfect be
Schoolboys in Winter
© John Clare
The schoolboys still their morning ramble take
To neighboring village school with playing speed,
