Poems begining by S
/ page 192 of 287 /Shine, Republic
© Robinson Jeffers
The quality of these trees, green height; of the sky, shining, of
water, a clear flow; of the rock, hardness
And reticence: each is noble in its quality. The love of freedom
has been the quality of Western man.
Sonnet VIII: What Can I Give Thee Back
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
What can I give thee back, O liberal
And princely giver, who hast brought the gold
Sonnet 113: "Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;...
© William Shakespeare
Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;
And that which governs me to go about
Sick
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Sick "I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
Sonnet 58: "That god forbid, that made me first your slave..."
© William Shakespeare
That god forbid, that made me first your slave,
I should in thought control your times of pleasure,
Sonnet XLIX. J.R.L. (On His Homeward Voyage) 1.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
BACK from old England, in whose courts he stood
Foremost to knit by act and word the band
Between the daughter and the mother-land
In all by either prized of truth and good,
Statistics
© William Butler Yeats
"THOSE Platonists are a curse,' he said,
"God's fire upon the wane,
A diagram hung there instead,
More women born than men.'
Sonnet II
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
If that apparent part of life's delight
Our tingled flesh-sense circumscribes were seen
Song At Capri
© Sara Teasdale
When beauty grows too great to bear
How shall I ease me of its ache,
For beauty more than bitterness
Makes the heart break.
Sydney Exhibition Cantata
© Henry Kendall
A gracious morning on the hills of wet
And wind and mist her glittering feet has set;
The life and heat of light have chased away
Australia's dark, mysterious yesterday.
A great, glad glory now flows down and shines
On gold-green lands where waved funereal pines.
Stanzas To Augusta
© George Gordon Byron
I.
When all around grew drear and dark,
And reason half withheld her ray
And hope but shed a dying spark
Which more misled my lonely way;
Sorry Her Lot
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Sorry her lot who loves too well,
Heavy the heart that hopes but vainly,
Sad are the sighs that own the spell
Uttered by eyes that speak too plainly;
Heavy the sorrow that bows the head
When Love is alive and Hope is dead!
Spring Sleep
© Bai Juyi
The pillow's low, the quilt is warm, the body smooth and peaceful,
Sun shines on the door of the room, the curtain not yet open.
Still the youthful taste of spring remains in the air,
Often it will come to you even in your sleep.
Since Then
© Madison Julius Cawein
I found myself among the trees
What time the reapers ceased to reap;
And in the sunflower-blooms the bees
Huddled brown heads and went to sleep,
Rocked by the balsam-breathing breeze.
Sonnet 57: "Being your slave what should I do but tend..."
© William Shakespeare
Being your slave what should I do but tend,
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
"Sed Nos Qui Vivimus"
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
How beautiful is life--the physical joy of sense and breathing;
The glory of the world which has found speech and speaks to us;
The robe which summer throws in June round the white bones of winter;
The new birth of each day, itself a life, a world, a sun!
So Far, So Near
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
THOU so far, we grope to grasp thee
Thou, so near, we cannot clasp thee
Thou, so wise, our prayers grow heedless
Thou, so loving, they are needless!