Poems begining by S
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Sonnet
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
To the River OtterDear native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West!
How many various-fated years have past,
What happy and what mournful hours, since last
I skimm'd the smooth thin stone along thy breast,
Sonnet 88: Out, Traitor Absence
© Sir Philip Sidney
Out, traitor Absence, darest thou counsel me
From my dear captainess to run away,
Because in brave array here marched she
That to win me, oft shows a present pay?
Sonnet: XLVI
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Even in the moment of our earliest kiss,
When sighed the straitened bud into the flower,
Sonnet XXX: Those Priests
© Michael Drayton
To the Vestals
Those priests which first the Vestal fire begun,
Sic Vita
© Henry David Thoreau
A nosegay which Time clutched from out
Those fair Elysian fields,
With weeds and broken stems, in haste,
Doth make the rabble rout
That waste
The day he yields.
Ses Yeux
© Georges Rodenbach
Ses yeux où se blottit comme un rêve frileux,
Ses grands yeux ont séduit mon âme émerveillée,
D'un bleu d'ancien pastel, d'un bleu de fleur mouillée,
Ils semblent regarder de loin, ses grands yeux bleus.
Sonnet XII. To Mrs. Siddons
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
As when a child on some long winter's night
Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees
With eager wond'ring and perturbed delight
Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees
Sweet MountainsYe tell Me no lie
© Emily Dickinson
Sweet MountainsYe tell Me no lie
Never deny MeNever fly
Those same unvarying Eyes
Turn on Mewhen I failor feign,
Or take the Royal names in vain
Their farslowViolet Gaze
See They Come, Post Haste From Thanet
© Jane Austen
Down the hill they're swift proceeding,
Now they skirt the Park around;
Lo! The Cattle sweetly feeding
Scamper, startled at the sound!
Sotto Voce
© Walter de la Mare
At foot a few sparse harebells: blue
And still as were the friend's dark eyes
That dwelt on mine, transfixèd through
With sudden ecstatic surmise.
Spring
© Ernst Toller
In spring I go to war
To sing or to die.
What do I care for my own troubles?
Today I shatter them, laughing in pieces.
Sonnet 30: Whether the Turkish New Moon
© Sir Philip Sidney
Whether the Turkish new moon minded be
To fill his horns this year on Christian coast;
How Poles' right king means, with leave of host,
To warm with ill-made fire cold Muscovy;
Sonnet To John Hamilton Reynolds
© John Keats
O that a week could be an age, and we
Felt parting and warm meeting every week,
Then one poor year a thousand years would be,
The flush of welcome ever on the cheek:
Scopolamine
© Catherine Pozzi
Le vin qui coule dans ma veine
A noyé mon coeur et lentraîne
Et je naviguerai le ciel
A bord dun coeur sans capitaine
Où loubli fond comme du miel.
Sonnet XXXIX: Some, When in Rhyme
© Michael Drayton
Some, when in rhyme they of their loves do tell,
With flames and lightnings their exordiums paint;
Song
© Frances Anne Kemble
I sing the yellow leaf,
That rustling strews
The wintry path, where grief
Delights to muse.
Sonnet 96
© John Berryman
An instant there is, Sophoclean, true,
When Oedipus must understand: his head
When Oedipus believestilts like a wave,
And will not break, only iov iov
Wells from his dreadful mouth, the love he led:
Prolong to Procyon this. This begins my grave.
