Poems begining by S
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Sonnet XIX
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
Beauty and love let no one separate,
Whom exact Nature did to each other fit,
SONG OF THE CLOUDS (from The Clouds)
© Aristophanes
CLOUD-MAIDENS that float on forever,
Dew-sprinkled, fleet bodies, and fair,
Sonnet 88: "When thou shalt be dispos'd to set me light,..."
© William Shakespeare
When thou shalt be dispos'd to set me light,
And place my merit in the eye of scorn,
Sonnet: England in 1819
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king,--
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
Swift And Sure The Swallow
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Swift and sure the swallow,
Slow and sure the snail:
Slow and sure may miss his way,
Swift and sure may fail.
Songs Of Education: V. The Higher Mathematics
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Form 339125, Sub-Section M
Twice one is two,
Song From The Ship
© Thomas Lovell Beddoes
To sea, to sea! The calm is o'er;
The wanton water leaps in sport,
She Was a Beauty
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
She was a beauty in the days
When Madison was President;
And quite coquettish in her ways
On cardiac conquests much intent.
She staked her FeathersGained an Arc
© Emily Dickinson
She staked her FeathersGained an Arc
DebatedRose again
This timebeyond the estimate
Of Envy, or of Men
Sonnet to Ocean
© Thomas Hood
Shall I rebuke thee, Ocean, my old love,
That once, in rage, with the wild winds at strife,
Thou darest menace my unit of a life,
Sending my clay below, my soul above,
Sonnet II. Written at Bamborough Castle.
© William Lisle Bowles
YE holy tow'rs, that crown the azure deep,
Still may ye shade the wave-worn rock sublime,
Though, hurrying silent by, relentless Time
Assail you, and the winter Whirlwind's sweep!
Story Telling
© Edgar Albert Guest
Most every night when they're in bed,
And both their little prayers have said,
Swift's Pastoral
© Padraic Colum
ESTHER
I know the answer: 'tis ingenious.
I'm tired of your riddles, Doctor Swift.
Sleeping for the Flag
© Henry Clay Work
Sleeping to waken
In this weary world no more;
Sleeping for your true-lov'd country, brother,
Sleeping for the flag you bore.
Sonnet XXIII: Is It Indeed So?
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?
Sonnet X
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AS one who strays from out some shadowy glade,
Fronting a lurid noontide, stern, yet bright,
O'er mart and tower, and castellated height,
Shrinks slowly backward, dazed and half afraid--
