Poems begining by S

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Sonnet. "But to be still! oh, but to cease awhile"

© Frances Anne Kemble

But to be still! oh, but to cease awhile

  The panting breath and hurrying steps of life,

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Success

© Henry Lawson

Did you see that man riding past,

 With shoulders bowed with care?

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Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

© Anne Sexton

No matter what life you lead
the virgin is a lovely number:
cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper,
arms and legs made of Limoges,

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Spring

© William Wilfred Campbell

There dwells a spirit in the budding year-

As motherhood doth beautify the face-

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Shall The Dead Praise Thee?

© George MacDonald

I cannot praise thee. By his instrument
The master sits, and moves nor foot nor hand;
For see the organ-pipes this, that way bent,
Leaning, o'erthrown, like wheat-stalks tempest-fanned!

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Sylvia's Death

© Anne Sexton

for Sylvia Plath
O Sylvia, Sylvia,
with a dead box of stones and spoons,
with two children, two meteors

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Suicide Note

© Anne Sexton

Once upon a time
my hunger was for Jesus.
O my hunger! My hunger!
Before he grew old
he rode calmly into Jerusalem
in search of death.

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Symphonic Studies (After Schumann)

© Emma Lazarus

Prelude

Blue storm-clouds in hot heavens of mid-July

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Suzanne

© William Carlos Williams

Brother Paul! look!
—but he rushes to a different
window.
The moon!

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Sonnet VIII

© Charles Lamb

As when a child on some long winter's night

Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees

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Sympathetic Portrait Of A Child

© William Carlos Williams

Why has she chosen me
for the knife
that darts along her smile?

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Sonnet XIV. On The Religious Memory Of Mrs. Catharine Thomson, My Christian Friend, Deceas'd 16 Dece

© John Milton

When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load
Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever

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Spring And All

© William Carlos Williams

By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen

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Sonnet

© Sara Teasdale

I saw a ship sail forth at evening time;
Her prow was gilded by the western fire,
And all her rigging one vast golden lyre,
For winds to play on to the ocean's rhyme

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Sonnet Written After Having Read A. F. Rio’s, Petite Chouaunerie

© John Kenyon

Call not our Bretons backward. What if rude

  Of speech and mien, and rude of fashion—drest;

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Soothsay

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Let no man ask thee of anything

Not yearborn between Spring and Spring.

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Semele

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

No praise to me!

  My joy 'twas to be nothing but the glass

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Sur Un Groupe De Jupiter Et D’Europe

© André Marie de Chénier

_Des nymphes et des satyres chantent dans une grotte qu'il faut peindre
bien romantique, pittoresque, divine, en soupant, avec des coupes
ciselées; chacun chante le sujet représenté sur sa coupe. L'un_:
Étranger, ce taureau, _etc._; _l'autre_: Pasiphaé; _d'autres,
d'autres_...

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Stanzas Written under an Oak in Windsor Forest

© Mary Darby Robinson

"HERE POPE FIRST SUNG!" O, hallow'd Tree !
Such is the boast thy bark displays;
Thy branches, like thy Patron's lays,
Shall ever, ever, sacred be;
Nor with'ring storm, nor woodman's stroke,
Shall harm the POET'S favourite Oak.

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Stanzas to Time

© Mary Darby Robinson

CAPRICIOUS foe to human joy,
Still varying with the fleeting day;
With thee the purest raptures cloy,
The fairest prospects fade away;