Poems begining by S

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Sonnet VII.

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

THOSE times are gone, that circle thinned away,
And we who live, now scattered far and wide,
Each in our separate centres fixed abide,
Round which new interests now revolve and play

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Steelhead

© Robinson Jeffers

The sky was cold December blue with great tumbling clouds,

and the little river

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Snakecharmer

© Sylvia Plath

As the gods began one world, and man another,
So the snakecharmer begins a snaky sphere
With moon-eye, mouth-pipe, He pipes. Pipes green. Pipes water.

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Scarce Had My Mind Received

© Sugawara Takesue no Musume

Scarce had my mind received with wonder
The thought of newly fallen snow -
Seeing the ground lie white -
When the scent of Tachibana flowers
Arose from fallen blossoms.

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Sleep by Todd Davis: American Life in Poetry #136 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Here's a fine seasonal poem by Todd Davis, who lives and teaches in Pennsylvania. It's about the drowsiness that arrives with the early days of autumn. Can a bear imagine the future? Surely not as a human would, but perhaps it can sense that the world seems to be slowing toward slumber. Who knows?

Sleep

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St. Yve’s Poor

© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

Thy dead are sheltered; housed and warmed they wait
Under the golden fern, the falling foam;
But these, Thy living, wander desolate
And have not any home.

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Song Of A Mad Girl, Whose Lover Has Died At Sea

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

Under the green white blue of this and that and the other,

That and the other, and that and the other, for ever and ever,

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Seeing The Duke Of Ormond's Picture, At Sir Godfrey Kneller's

© Matthew Prior

O Kneller! could thy shades and lights express
The perfect hero in that glorious dress,
Ages to come might Ormond's picture know,
And palms for thee beneath his laurels grow;
In spite of time thy work might ever thine,
Nor Homer's colours last so long as thine.

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Song III

© Edith Nesbit

WE loved, my love, and now it seems
  Our love has brought to birth
Friendship, the fairest child of dreams,
  The rarest gift of earth.

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Song: One Hard Look

© Robert Graves

Small gnats that fly
In hot July
And lodge in sleeping ears,
Can rouse therein
A trumpet's din
With Day-of-Judgement fears.

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Shrine Of The Virgin - Part II

© John Kenyon

She cometh to the seaward shrine,

  A mother, with her children three;

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Southampton Castle

© William Lisle Bowles

INSCRIBED TO THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE.

  The moonlight is without; and I could lose

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Snowdrops

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

Have you heard the Snowdrops ringing

Their bells to themselves?

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Song II

© Thomas Parnell

When thy Beauty appears

In its Graces and Airs,

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Sonnet XXVI

© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa

The world is woven all of dream and error

And but one sureness in our truth may lie--

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Shame

© Arthur Rimbaud

So long as the blade has not

Cut off that brain,

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Song

© James Bayard Taylor

DAUGHTER of Egypt, veil thine eyes!

  I cannot bear their fire;

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Semper Fidelis

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

THINK you, had we two lost fealty, something would not, as I sit
With this book upon my lap here, come and overshadow it?
Hide with spectral mists the pages, under each familiar leaf
Lurk, and clutch my hand that turns it with the icy clutch of grief?

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Sonnet LXII

© Charlotte Turner Smith

Written on passing by Moon-light through a Village,
while the ground was covered with Snow.
WHILE thus I wander, cheerless and unblest,
And find in change of place but change of pain;

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Sweet Sister

© Victor Marie Hugo

Sweet sister, if you knew, like me,
The charms of guileless infancy,
No more you'd envy riper years,
Or smiles, more bitter than your tears.