Poems begining by S
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Since I Have Done My Best
© Edgar Albert Guest
SINCE I have done my best, I do
Not fear the outcome; here I stand
Sonnet: When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be
© John Keats
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Spirit Of Song
© Thomas Bracken
Where is thy dwelling-place? Echo of sweetness,
Seraph of tenderness, where is thy home?
Spain
© Arthur Symons
Josefa, when you sing,
With clapping hands, the sorrows of your Spain,
And all the bright-shawled ring
Laugh and clap hands again,
I think how all the sorrows were in vain.
Sonnet 34: Come Let Me Write
© Sir Philip Sidney
Come, let me write. "And to what end?" To ease
A burthen'd heart. "How can words ease, which are
The glasses of thy daily vexing care?"
Oft cruel fights well pictur'd forth do please.
Sonnet XXIV. By The Same.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
MAKE there my tomb, beneath the lime-tree's shade,
Where grass and flowers in wild luxuriance wave;
Let no memorial mark where I am laid,
Or point to common eyes the lover's grave!
Sir Hugh; Or The Jew's Daughter
© Andrew Lang
Four-and-twenty bonny boys
Were playing at the ba,
And by it came him sweet Sir Hugh,
And he playd o'er them a'.
Stanzas on the Taking of Quebec and the Death of General Wolfe
© Oliver Goldsmith
AMIDST the clamour of exulting joys,
Which triumph forces from the patriot heart,
Grief dares to mingle her soul-piercing voice,
And quells the raptures which from pleasures start.
Spring In War Time
© Sara Teasdale
I feel the spring far off, far off,
The faint, far scent of bud and leaf --
Oh, how can spring take heart to come
To a world in grief,
Deep grief?
San Terenzo
© Andrew Lang
MID April seemed like some November day,
When through the glassy waters, dull as lead,
Sleep
© Abraham Cowley
In vain, thou drowsy God! I thee invoke;
For thou, who dost from fumes arise
Senlin: A Biography Pt. 01:His Dark Origins
© Conrad Aiken
He lights his pipe with a pointed flame.
'Yet, there were many autumns before I came,
And many springs. And more will come, long after
There is no horn for me, or song, or laughter.
Sonnet IX: If This Be Love
© Samuel Daniel
If this be love, to draw a weary breath,
Paint on floods, till the shore, cry to th'air,
Sleep
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
When to oft sleep we give ourselves away,
And in a dream as in a fairy bark
Sabbath, My Love
© Yehudah HaLevi
Six slaves the weekdays are; I share
With them a round of toil and care,
Yet light the burdens seem, I bear
For your sweet sake, Sabbath, my love!
Sabbath Queen
© Hayyim Nahman Bialik
The sun has already disappeared beyond the treetops,
Come let us go and welcome the Sabbath Queen,
September in Australia
© Henry Kendall
Grey Winter hath gone, like a wearisome guest,
And, behold, for repayment,
Second Sight
© George MacDonald
Rich is the fancy which can double back
All seeming forms, and from cold icicles
