Poems begining by S
/ page 176 of 287 /Songs Of Seven (complete)
© Jean Ingelow
There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover,
There’s no rain left in heaven:
I’ve said my “seven times” over and over,
Seven times one are seven.
Sonnet 65: Love By Sure Proof
© Sir Philip Sidney
Love by sure proof I may call thee unkind,
That giv'st no better ear to my just cries:
Thou whom to me such my good turns should bind,
As I may well recount, but none can prize:
Stanzas. -- April, 1814
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Away! the moor is dark beneath the moon,
Rapid clouds have drank the last pale beam of even:
Away! the gathering winds will call the darkness soon,
And profoundest midnight shroud the serene lights of heaven.
Sea-Shore Musings
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
How oft Ive longed to gaze on thee,
Thou proud and mighty deep!
Songs Set To Music: 4. Set By Mr. Smith
© Matthew Prior
Come, weep no more, for 'tis in vain;
Torment not thus your pretty heart;
Think, Flavia, we may meet again,
As well as that we now must part.
Stanza
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
If I walk in Autumn's even
While the dead leaves pass,
If I look on Springs soft heaven,--
Something is not there which was
Winter's wondrous frost and snow,
Summer's clouds, where are they now?
Sonnet XVIII. The Fireside.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
WITH what a live intelligence the flame
Glows and leaps up in spires of flickering red,
And turns the coal just now so dull and dead
To a companion not like those who came
Spring Song II
© Edith Nesbit
Small joy the greenness and grace of spring
To grey hard lives like our own can bring.
A drowning man cares little to think
Of the lights on the waves where he soon must sink.
Summer's Last Will and Testament (excerpt)
© 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!
Song
© John Jay Chapman
OLD Farmer Oats and his son Ned
They quarreled about the old mare's bed,
And some hard words by each were said,
Sing, sing, ye all!
St.Gregory's Guest
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A TALE for Roman guides to tell
To careless, sight-worn travellers still,
Who pause beside the narrow cell
Of Gregory on the Caelian Hill.
Sonnet LXXXV
© Edmund Spenser
THe world that cannot deeme of worthy things,
when I doe praise her, say I doe but flatter:
so does the Cuckow, when the Mauis sings,
begin his witlesse note apace to clatter.
Solitude; In Youth And Age
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
IN youth we shrink from solitude!
It's quiet ways we shun,
Because our hearts are fain to dance
With others in the sun;--
Life's nectar bubbling brightly up,
O'erfloweth toward our brother's cup.
St. Louis: A Song Of The City
© Edgar Albert Guest
I was in St. Louis when their mystic Prophet came
From his dark, mysterious haunts to gaze upon the throngs.
None had ever seen his face and none could tell his name.
Yet they greeted him with cheers and welcomed him with songs.
Shakespeare
© Peter McArthur
I MAY not tell what hidden springs I find
Of living beauty in this deathless page,
Sonnet XX.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The piteous sobs that choke the Virgin's breath
For him, the fair betrothed Youth, who les
Cold in the narrow dwelling, or the cries
With which a Mother wails her Darling's death,
Sonnet Of Motherhood XXIV
© Zora Bernice May Cross
You came. You saw me. And because in you
A myriad mothers all their love had spread,
Those holy women since the dawn of day
Gave you the promise of a master true
Dearest, that bee unto the flower was wed
When your song fitted with my humble lay.
Sweet Music In The Wind
© William Barnes
When evenèn is a-drawèn in,
I'll steal vrom others' naïsy din;