Poems begining by S
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Sonnet L. J.R.L. (On His Homeward Voyage) 2.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
O SHIP that bears him to his native shore,
Beneath whose keel the seething ocean heaves,
Bring safe our poet with his garnered sheaves
Of Life's ripe autumn poesy and lore!
Since Cleopatra Died
© Thomas Wentworth Higginson
SINCE Cleopatra died! Long years are past,
In Antonys fancy, since the deed was done.
Sweet Marie
© William Percy French
I've a little racin' mare called Sweet Marie;
And the temper of a bear has Sweet Marie.
Spring
© John Le Gay Brereton
Spring, and the wispy clouds that fade away
And draw the ecstatic soul in pain to aspire
Song. "The moment must come, when the hands that unite"
© Frances Anne Kemble
The moment must come, when the hands that unite
In the firm clasp of friendship, will sever;
Saint Oluf (From The Old Danish)
© George Borrow
St. Oluf was a mighty king,
Who ruld the Northern land;
The holy Christian faith he preachd,
And taught it, sword in hand.
Sancho Sanchez
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Sancho Sanchez lay a--dying in the house of Mariquita,
For his life ebbed with the ebbing of the red wound in his side.
And he lay there as they left him when he came from the Corrida
In his gold embroidered jacket and his red cloak and his pride.
Sir Macklin
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Of all the youths I ever saw
None were so wicked, vain, or silly,
So lost to shame and Sabbath law,
As worldly TOM, and BOB, and BILLY.
Some Songs After Master Singers
© James Whitcomb Riley
A little maid, of summers four--
Did you compute her years,--
And yet how infinitely more
To me her age appears:
Sonnett - XXVI
© James Russell Lowell
TO J.R. GIDDINGS
Giddings, far rougher names than thine have grown
Song Of The Many
© Edgar Albert Guest
This is the song of the many
Who seldom are mentioned in praise,
Sonnet 15
© Richard Barnfield
A[h] fairest Ganymede, disdaine me not,
Though silly Sheepeheard I, presume to loue thee,
Second Nature
© Edith Nesbit
WHEN I was young how fair the skies,
Such folly of cloud, such blue depths wise,
Such dews of morn, such calms of eve,
So many the lure and the reprieve--
Life seemed a toy to break and mend
And make a charm of in the end.
Srahmandazi
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Deep embowered beside the forest river,
Where the flame of sunset only falls,
Lapped in silence lies the House of Dying,
House of them to whom the twilight calls.
Sonnet XXXVII: The Love-Moon
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
"When that dead face, bowered in the furthest years,
Which once was all the life years held for thee,
Sonnet. "Beside a well-reap'd field at Eventide"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Beside a well-reap'd field at Eventide,
One laid him down to rest who'd wandered far,
Sonnet XIV
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
We are born at sunset and we die ere morn,
And the whole darkness of the world we know,
Sonnet 23: The Curious Wits
© Sir Philip Sidney
The curious wits seeing dull pensiveness
Bewray itself in my long settled eyes,
Whence those same fumes of melancholy rise,
With idle pains, and missing aim, do guess.
Speech Of Honourable Preserved Doe In Secret Caucus
© James Russell Lowell
But I've talked longer now 'n I hed any idee,
An' ther's others you want to hear more 'n you du me;
So I'll set down an' give thet 'ere bottle a skrimmage,
For I've spoke till I'm dry ez a real graven image.
