Poems begining by S
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Sleep And Poetry
© John Keats
As I lay in my bed slepe full unmete
Was unto me, but why that I ne might
Rest I ne wist, for there n'as erthly wight
[As I suppose] had more of hertis ese
Than I, for I n'ad sicknesse nor disese. ~ Chaucer
Song. For a Temperance Dinner
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
For a Temperance dinner to which ladies were
Invited (new York Mercantile library Association,
November, 1842)
Sonnet XXXVIII.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
FROM THE NOVEL OF EMMELINE.
WHEN welcome slumber sets my spirit free,
Forth to fictitious happiness it flies,
And where Elysian bowers of bliss arise,
Sonnet XXIX: The Moonstar
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Lady, I thank thee for thy loveliness,
Because my lady is more lovely still.
Sonnet VIII
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
How many masks wear we, and undermasks,
Upon our countenance of soul, and when,
Spear Thistle
© John Clare
Where the broad sheepwalk bare and brown
[Yields] scant grass pining after showers,
And winds go fanning up and down
The little strawy bents and nodding flowers,
There the huge thistle, spurred with many thorns,
The suncrackt upland's russet swells adorns.
Shadows on the Floor
© Henry Clay Work
Out of employ! out of employ!
Distress in the cottage where once there was joy;
How frightful the shadows that fall on the floor
When Want and Starvation appear at the door!
Seventeen
© Robert Nichols
All the loud winds were in the garden wood,
All shadows joyfuller than lissom hounds
Sonnet I : To The Nightingale
© John Milton
O Nightingale, that on yon blooming spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still,
Thou with fresh hopes the Lovers heart dost fill,
While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May.
Sitting On The Shore
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
THE tide has ebbed away:
No more wild dashings 'gainst the adamant rocks,
Nor swayings amidst sea-weed false that mocks
The hues of gardens gay:
Sin
© Madison Julius Cawein
There is a legend of an old Hartz tower
That tells of one, a noble, who had sold
Sonnet XXII: To The Same. (Cyriac Skinner)
© John Milton
Cyriac, this three years' day these eyes, though clear
To outward view of blemish or of spot,
Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot;
Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear
Sonnet VIII: Thou Poor Heart
© Samuel Daniel
Thou poor heart sacrific'd unto the fairest,
Hast sent the incense of thy sighs to heav'n;
Spring-Watching Pavilion
© Ho Xuan Huong
A gentle spring evening arrives
airily, unclouded by worldly dust.
Summer Serenade
© Ogden Nash
When the thunder stalks the sky,
When tickle-footed walks the fly,
When shirt is wet and throat is dry,
Look, my darling, thats July.
Sonnets Of The Blood VI
© Allen Tate
The fire I praise was once perduring flame-
Till it snuffs with our generation out;
Shabby HouseWall
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Shabby house--wall
Of bricks once yellow,
Dingied with city grime,
Dusty and sallow,
Sonnet XI
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
Like to a ship that storms urge on its course,
By its own trials our soul is surer made.
Senorita
© Madison Julius Cawein
An agate-black, your roguish eyes
Claim no proud lineage of the skies,
No starry blue; but of good earth
The reckless witchery and mirth.
