Poems begining by S
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Suzanna Socked Me Sunday
© Jack Prelutsky
Suzanna socked me Sunday,
she socked me Monday, too,
she also socked me Tuesday,
I was turning black and blue.
Sonnets from the Portuguese 43: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
Sabbath lie
© John Wesley
On Friday, at twilight of a summer day
While the smells of food and prayer rose from every house
And the sound of the Sabbath angels’ wings was in the air,
While still a child I started to lie to my father:
“I went to another synagogue.”
Song (Untitled #5)
© George Meredith
I cannot lose thee for a day,
But like a bird with restless wing
Superstition
© Madison Julius Cawein
In the waste places, in the dreadful night,
When the wood whispers like a wandering mind,
Song
© William Allingham
O Spirit of the Summertime !
Bring back the roses to the dells ;
The swallow from her distant clime,
The honey-bee from drowsy cells.
Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle upon the Restoration of Lord Clifford, the Shepherd, to the Estates and Honours of his Ancestors
© André Breton
High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,
And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.—
The words of ancient time I thus translate,
A festal strain that hath been silent long:—
Spring In The North
© Henry Van Dyke
Ah, think not early love alone is strong;
He loveth best whose heart has learned to wait:
Dear messenger of Spring that tarried long,
You're doubly dear because you come so late.
Song IV
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Oh roses for the flush of youth,
And laurel for the perfect prime;
But pluck an ivy branch for me
Grown old before my time.
Sonnet XL: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all
© William Shakespeare
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all:
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
Sonnet
© Frances Anne Kemble
SUGGESTED BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE OBSERVING THAT WE NEVER DREAM OF OURSELVES YOUNGER THAN WE ARE.
Not in our dreams, not even in our dreams
Sonnet III
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OF all the woodland flowers of earlier spring,
These golden jasmines, each an air-hung bower.
Meet for the Queen of Fairies' tiring hour,
Seem loveliest and most fair in blossoming;
Shooting Star
© Wole Soyinka
1 In a concussion,
the mind severs the pain:
you don’t remember flying off a motorcycle,
and landing face first
in a cholla.
Sleep, Darksome, Deep
© Paul Verlaine
Sleep, darksome, deep,
Doth on me fall:
Vain hopes all, sleep,
Sleep, yearnings all!
Sonnet: A. M. D.
© George MacDonald
Methinks I see thee, lying straight and low,
Silent and darkling, in thy earthy bed,
"Some Busy Hands "
© Edith Wharton
SOME busy hands have brought to light,
And laid beneath my eye,
The dress I wore that afternoon
You came to say good-by.
Sonnet CXLIV: Two loves I have of comfort and despair
© William Shakespeare
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still
Swiss Song, On The Anniversary Of An Ancient Battle
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Look on the white Alps round!
If yet they gird a land
Where freedom's voice and step are found,
Forget ye not the band,
The faithful band, our sires, who fell
Here, in the narrow battle-dell!
Sydney Cove, 1788
© Roderic Quinn
SHE sat on the rocks, her fireless eyes
Teased and tired with the thoughts of yore;
And paining her sense were alien skies,
An alien sea and an alien shore.
