Poems begining by S
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Sonnet
© John Masefield
FLESH, I have knocked at many a dusty door,
Gone down full many a midnight lane,
Probed in old walls and felt along the floor,
Pressed in blind hope the lighted window-pane,
Sibylline
© Madison Julius Cawein
THERE is a glory in the apple boughs
Of silver moonlight; like a torch of myrrh,
Second Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
The clouds that wrap the setting sun
When Autumn's softest gleams are ending,
Sea Fever
© John Masefield
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.
Specula
© Edward Thomas
When He appoints to meet thee, go thou forth
It matters not
If south or north,
Bleak waste or sunny plot.
Salve!
© Edward Thomas
TO live within a cave--it is most good;
But, if God make a day,
And some one come, and say,
'Lo! I have gather'd faggots in the wood!'
E'en let him stay,
And light a fire, and fan a temporal mood!
Stellas Birth-Day: A Great Bottle Of Wine, Long Buried, Being That Day Dug Up. 1722-3
© Jonathan Swift
Resolv'd my annual verse to pay,
By duty bound, on Stella's day,
Furnish'd with paper, pens, and ink,
I gravely sat me down to think:
Sonnet 61: "Is it thy will, thy image should keep open..."
© William Shakespeare
Is it thy will, thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Sonnets To Europa
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough
of dark becoming where it cannot be.
So much both for the soil and for the tree,
so much for things that are becoming now.
Sonnet 101: Stella Is Sick
© Sir Philip Sidney
Stella is sick, and in that sickbed lies
Sweetness, which breathes and pants as oft as she:
And Grace, sick too, such fine conclusions tries
That Sickness brags itself best grac'd to be.
Satyr IX. The State Of Love Imitated Fm An Elegy Of Mons:r Desportes
© Thomas Parnell
Hence lett us hence with Just abhorrence go
for ill their happyness these mortalls know
Who slight the mighty favours I bestow
Sonnets XLIX: L: LI: LII: Willowwood
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I
I sat with Love upon a woodside well,
Sonnet XIV: Those Amber Locks
© Samuel Daniel
Those amber locks are those same nets, my dear,
Wherewith my liberty thou didst surprise;
Si Descendero In Infernum, Ades
© James Russell Lowell
O wandering dim on the extremest edge
Of God's bright providence, whose spirits sigh
Sonnet I: Unto the Boundless Ocean
© Samuel Daniel
Unto the boundless Ocean of thy beauty
Runs this poor river, charg'd with streams of zeal:
Song. I Had A Dove
© John Keats
I had a dove, and the sweet dove died;
And I have thought it died of grieving:
O, what could it grieve for? its feet were tied
With a single thread of my own hand's weaving;
Song Of The Jade Cup
© Li Po
A jade cup was broken because old age came
too soon to give fulfilment to hopes; after drinking
three cups of wine I wiped my sword and
started to dance under an autumn moon first
Sittin' On The Porch
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sittin' on the porch at night when all the tasks are done,
Just restin' there an' talkin', with my easy slippers on,
An' my shirt band thrown wide open an' my feet upon the rail,
Oh, it's then I'm at my richest, with a wealth that cannot fail;
For the scent of early roses seems to flood the evening air,
An' a throne of downright gladness is my wicker rocking chair.
