Poems begining by S
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Sonnet 46: I Curs'd Thee Oft
© Sir Philip Sidney
I curs'd thee oft, I pity now thy case,
Blind-hitting boy, since she that thee and me
Rules with a beck, so tyrannizeth thee,
That thou must want or food, or dwelling place,
Suicide
© William Ernest Henley
Staring corpselike at the ceiling,
See his harsh, unrazored features,
Ghastly brown against the pillow,
And his throat-so strangely bandaged!
Sonnet, To Genevra
© George Gordon Byron
Thine eyes' blue tenderness, thy long fair hair,
And the wan lustre of thy features caught
From contemplation-where serenely wrought,
Seems Sorrow's softness charm'd from its despair--
Song of Unending Sorrow.
© Bai Juyi
China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,
Sydney
© Arthur Henry Adams
In her grey majesty of ancient stone
She queens it proudly, though the sun's caress
Stanzas
© Henry Kendall
The sunsets fall and the sunsets fade,
But still I walk this shadowy land;
And grapple the dark and only the dark
In my search for a loving hand.
Song Of The Hindustanee Minstrel
© Henry Louis Vivian Derozio
With surmah tinge the black eye's fringe,
'Twill sparkle like a star;
With roses dress each raven tress,
My only loved Dildar!
Sonnet III.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
AH, happy time! when music bound in one
Two kindred souls that ne'er were out of tune:
When in the porch, beneath the summer moon,
Our supper o'er, our school-boy lessons done,
Sonnet to Hope
© Helen Maria Williams
O, ever skilled to wear the form we love!
To bid the shapes of fear and grief depart;
Shrine Of The Virgin - Part I
© John Kenyon
"The traveller, who hears that vesper-bell,
Howe'er employed, must send a prayer to heaven
Shameful Death
© William Morris
There were four of us about that bed;
The mass-priest knelt at the side,
I and his mother stood at the head,
Over his feet lay the bride;
We were quite sure that he was dead,
Though his eyes were open wide.
Say Something To Me
© James Whitcomb Riley
Say something to me! I've waited so long--
Waited and wondered in vain;
Songs of the Autumn Nights
© George MacDonald
O night, send up the harvest moon
To walk about the fields,
And make of midnight magic noon
On lonely tarns and wealds.
SONNET. To Patience
© Henry King
Down stormy passions, down; no more
Let your rude waves invade the shore
Where blushing reason sits and hides
Her from the fury of your tides.
Spring
© Madison Julius Cawein
First came the rain, loud, with sonorous lips;
A pursuivant who heralded a prince:
Story-Time
© Edgar Albert Guest
"TELL us a story," comes the cry
From little lips when nights are cold,
Sonnet XIII. Addressed To Haydon
© John Keats
High-mindedness, a jealousy for good,
A loving-kindness for the great man's fame,
Dwells here and there with people of no name,
In noisome alley, and in pathless wood:
See Where The Thames, The Purest Stream
© William Cowper
See where the Thames, the purest stream
That wavers to the noon-day beam,
Divides the vale below;
While like a vein of liquid ore
His waves enrich the happy shore,
Still shining as they flow.
