Poems begining by S
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Song Of Saul, Before His Last Battle
© George Gordon Byron
I.
Warriors and Chiefs! should the shaft or the sword
Pierce me in leading the host of the Lord,
Heed not the corse, though a king's, in your path:
Bury your steel in the bosoms of Gath!
Submergence
© David Herbert Lawrence
When along the pavement,
Palpitating flames of life,
People flicker round me,
I forget my bereavement,
The gap in the great constellation,
The place where a star used to be.
Service of all the Dead
© David Herbert Lawrence
Between the avenues of cypresses,
All in their scarlet cloaks, and surplices
Of linen, go the chaunting choristers,
The priests in gold and black, the villagers.
Second Love
© John Kenyon
The ne'er-forgetting! him who loves but once!
Romance may laud, but Cupid dubs for dunce;
And jeers, and mocks him on from pain to pain.
Who but hath sworn him ne'er to love again,
Then forged, himself, new links and chafed at his own chain?
Snap-Dragon
© David Herbert Lawrence
She bade me follow to her garden where
The mellow sunlight stood as in a cup
Between the old grey walls; I did not dare
To raise my face, I did not dare look up
Lest her bright eyes like sparrows should fly in
My windows of discovery and shrill 'Sin!'
Study
© David Herbert Lawrence
Somewhere the long mellow note of the blackbird
Quickens the unclasping hands of hazel,
Somewhere the wind-flowers fling their heads back,
Stirred by an impetuous wind. Some waysll
All be sweet with white and blue violet.
(Hush now, hush. Where am I?Biuret)
Scent of Irises
© David Herbert Lawrence
A faint, sickening scent of irises
Persists all morning. Here in a jar on the table
A fine proud spike of purple irises
Rising above the class-room litter, makes me unable
To see the classs lifted and bended faces
Save in a broken pattern, amid purple and gold and sable.
Song. Cold, Cold Is The Blast When December Is Howling
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Cold, cold is the blast when December is howling,
Cold are the damps on a dying man's brow,--
Stern are the seas when the wild waves are rolling,
And sad is the grave where a loved one lies low;
Sonnet XXVIII: Reign In My Thoughts
© Samuel Daniel
Reign in my thoughts, fair hand, sweet eye, rare voice:
Possess me whole, my heart's triumvirate;
Some Advice To Those Who Will Serve Time In Prison
© Nazim Hikmet
If instead of being hanged by the neck
you're thrown inside
"Somebody brought in lilac"
© Lesbia Harford
Somebody brought in lilac,
Lilac after rain.
Isn't it strange, belovéd of mine
You'll not see it again?
Search for Truth
© David Herbert Lawrence
Search for nothing any more, nothing
except truth.
Be very still, and try and get at the truth.
Sorrow
© David Herbert Lawrence
Why does the thin grey strand
Floating up from the forgotten
Cigarette between my fingers,
Why does it trouble me?
Santa Decca
© Oscar Wilde
Some God lies hidden in the asphodel.
Ah Love! if such there be then it were well
For us to fly his anger: nay, but see
The leaves are stirring: let us watch a-while.
Silence
© David Herbert Lawrence
Since I lost you I am silence-haunted,
Sounds wave their little wings
A moment, then in weariness settle
On the flood that soundless swings.
Snake
© David Herbert Lawrence
But must I confess how I liked him,
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink at my water-trough
And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,
Into the burning bowels of this earth?
Self-pity
© David Herbert Lawrence
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
Small Breaths
© Eileen Carney Hulme
No matter that my heart sinks,
sighs, with the weight of skeletons-paths I forgot to follow
have slowly sealedrooms go unrecognised
for fear of changeand I cry at the uncertainty of rainbows.All the daydreams I stole,
