Poems begining by S
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Sound, Sweet Song.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Sooner thus will good unfold;
Children young and children old
Gladly hear thy numbers flow.
Symbols.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
PALM Sunday at the VaticanThey celebrate with palms;
With reverence bows each holy man,And chaunts the ancient psalms.
Those very psalms are also sungWith olive boughs in hand,
While holly, mountain wilds among,In place of palms must stand:
Self-deceit.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
My neighbour's curtain, well I see,Is moving to and fin.
No doubt she's list'ning eagerly,If I'm at home or no.And if the jealous grudge I boreAnd openly confess'd,
Is nourish'd by me as before,Within my inmost breast.Alas! no fancies such as theseE'er cross'd the dear child's thoughts.
I see 'tis but the ev'ning breezeThat with the curtain sports.1803.
Sonnet VIII.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
You were not born to hide such gifts as yours
'Neath dreary law-books, nor amid the dust
And dry routine of desks to sit and rust
Where clerks plod through their tasks on office-floors.
Sonnet XXXVIII: Fair and Lovely Maid
© Samuel Daniel
Fair and lovely maid, look from the shore,
See thy Leander striving in these waves,
Sonnet 80: "O! how I faint when I of you do write,..."
© William Shakespeare
O! how I faint when I of you do write,
Storm
© Kathleen Raine
God in me is the fury on the bare heath
God in me shakes the interior kingdom of my heaven.
God in me is the fire wherein I burn.
Shells
© Kathleen Raine
They sleep on the ocean floor like humming-tops
Whose music is the mother-of-pearl octave of the rainbow,
Harmonious shells that whisper forever in our ears,
The world that you inhabit has not yet been created.
Seed
© Kathleen Raine
From star to star, from sun and spring and leaf,
And almost audible flowers whose sound is silence,
And in the common meadows, springs the seed of life.
Sappho
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh
When the dull day is passing by.
I sigh at evening, and again
I sigh when night brings sleep to men.
Spring Quiet
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing;
Suave Mari Magno
© Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
Nenhum, nenhum curioso
Passava, sem se deter,
Silencioso,
St. Jeanne Rides Out (for Amy Lowell)
© Margaret Widdemer
St. Jeanne she sat with Michaël,
With Marguerite and Raphaël,
Silent Noon
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky: -
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.
Song (She Sat And Sang Alway)
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
She sat and sang alway
By the green margin of a stream,
Watching the fishes leap and play
Beneath the glad sunbeam.
Song Written to a Hindoo Air
© Amelia Opie
Ask not, whence springs my ceaseless sadness,
But let me still the secret keep:
Ask not, why thus in restless madness
Pass the long hours once given to sleep:
Sleeping at last
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Sleeping at last, the trouble and tumult over,
Sleeping at last, the struggle and horror past,
Cold and white, out of sight of friend and of lover,
Sleeping at last.
Sonnet XII. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour
© John Keats
Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far;
Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,
Or hand of hymning angel, when 'tis seen
Sweeney
© Henry Lawson
It was somewhere in September, and the sun was going down,
When I came, in search of `copy', to a Darling-River town;
`Come-and-have-a-drink' we'll call it -- 'tis a fitting name, I think --
And 'twas raining, for a wonder, up at Come-and-have-a-drink.
