Poems begining by S

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Song Of Slaves In The Desert

© John Greenleaf Whittier

WHERE are we going? where are we going,
Where are we going, Rubee?
Lord of peoples, lord of lands,
Look across these shining sands,

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Sympathy

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!

  When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; 

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Sonnet: On seeing Miss Helen Maria Williams weep at a tale of distress

© William Wordsworth

She wept.--Life's purple tide began to flow

  In languid streams through every thrilling vein;

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Sonnets from the Portuguese 35: If I Leave all for thee

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange


And be all to me? Shall I never miss

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Sonnet To Lake Leman

© George Gordon Byron

Rousseau -- Voltaire -- our Gibbon -- De Staël --

Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore,

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Song Of Four Faries

© John Keats

Salamander.
Sweet Dusketha! paradise!
Off, ye icy Spirits, fly!
Frosty creatures of the sky!

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Spring Snow

© Michael Rosen

A kind of counter-

blossoming, diversionary,

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Sonnets from the Portuguese 44: Beloved, thou has brought me many flowers

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers


  Plucked in the garden, all the summer through

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Spring, the sweet spring

© Thomas Nashe

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
 Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

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Salvations

© Kay Ryan

Like hope

it springs

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Song XIII. - Winter

© William Shenstone

No more, ye warbling birds! rejoice:
Of all that cheer'd the plain,
Echo alone preserves her voice,
And she-repeats my pain.

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Success

© Madison Julius Cawein

How some succeed who have least need,
In that they make no effort for!
And pluck, where others pluck a weed,
The burning blossom of a star,
Grown from no earthly seed.

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Sonnet LIII. August.

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

FAR Off among the fields and meadow rills
The August noon bends o'er a world of green.
In the blue sky the white clouds pause, and lean
To paint broad shadows on the wooded hills

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Still Burning

© Gerald Stern

Me trying to understand say whence

say whither, say what, say me with a pencil walking,

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Sonnet 69: Oh Joy, Too High For My Low Style

© Sir Philip Sidney

Oh joy, too high for my low style to show:
Oh bliss, fit for a nobler state than me:
Envy, put out thine eyes, lest thou do see
What oceans of delight in me do flow.

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Solitude

© James Lister Cuthbertson

This is the maiden Solitude, too fair

For mortal eyes to gaze on-she who dwells

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Stanzas To the Memory Of George III

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

'Among many nations was there no King like him.' –Nehemiah, xiii, 26.

  'Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?' – 2 Samuel, iii, 38.

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Sonnet CXI: O, for my Sake do you with Fortune Chide

© William Shakespeare

O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,


The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,

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Sonnet CXLVII: My love is a fever, longing still

© William Shakespeare

My love is a fever, longing still

For that which longer nurseth the disease,

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St. Wagner’s Eve

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

THE hop—shop is shut up: the night doth wear.

Here, early, Collinson this evening fell