Poems begining by S

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Sampson's Lion

© John Newton

The lion that on Sampson roared,
And thirsted for his blood;
With honey afterwards was stored,
And furnished him with food.

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Sonnet LXXVII: Soul's Beauty

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Under the arch of Life, where love and death,

Terror and mystery, guard her shrine, I saw

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Salmacis And Hermaphroditus

© Ovid

HOW Salmacis with weak enfeebling streams

Softens the body, and unnerves the limbs,

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Sonnet LVIII. The Glow-Worm

© Charlotte Turner Smith

WHEN on some balmy-breathing night of Spring
The happy child, to whom the world is new,
Pursues the evening moth, of mealy wing,
Or from the heath-bell beats the sparkling dew;

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Songs Of Education: II. Geography

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

  The earth is a place on which England is found,
  And you find it however you twirl the globe round;
  For the spots are all red and the rest is all grey,
  And that is the meaning of Empire Day.

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Selling The Old Home

© Edgar Albert Guest

The little house has grown too small, or rather we have grown
Too big to dwell within the walls where all our joys were known.
And so, obedient to the wish of her we love so well,
I have agreed for sordid gold the little home to sell.
Now strangers come to see the place, and secretly I sigh,
And deep within my breast I hope that they'll refuse to buy.

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Sonnet. On Mrs. Kemble's Readings From Shakespeare

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

O precious evenings! all too swiftly sped!

Leaving us heirs to amplest heritages

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Summer

© Conrad Aiken

Absolute zero: the locust sings:
summer’s caught in eternity’s rings:
the rock explodes, the planet dies,
we shovel up our verities.

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Sonnet LIV.

© Charlotte Turner Smith

THE SLEEPING WOODMAN.
Written in April, 1790.
YE copses wild, where April bids arise
The vernal grasses, and the early flowers;

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Song - Wait But A Little While

© Norman Rowland Gale

WAIT but a little while— 

  The bird will bring 

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S. Francesco Del Deserto

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Peace in smooth summer hour
Paces the seas awhile;
But Peace has built her tower
Upon this chosen isle.

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Solitude

© John Henry Newman

There is in stillness oft a magic power

To calm the breast, when struggling passions lower;

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Seasonal Cycle - Chapter 05 - Winter

© Kalidasa

"Oh, dear with best thighs, heart-stealing is this environ with abundantly grown stacks of rice and their cobs, or with sugarcane, and it is reverberated with the screeches of ruddy gees that abide hither and thither… now heightened will be passion, thereby this season will be gladdening for lusty womenfolk, hence listen of this season, called Shishira, the Winter…

"At this time, people enjoy abiding in the medial places of their residences, whose ventilators are blockaded for the passage of chilly air, and at fireplaces, in sunrays, with heavy clothing, and along with mature women of age, for they too will be passionately steamy…

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Song Of The Soldier's Wives.

© Thomas Hardy

I

At last!  In sight of home again,

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Song is Not Dead

© Robert Fuller Murray

Song is not dead, although to-day
Men tell us everything is said.
There yet is something left to say,
Song is not dead.

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Semper Eadem (Ever The Same)

© Charles Baudelaire

«D'où vous vient, disiez-vous, cette tristesse étrange,
Montant comme la mer sur le roc noir et nu?»
— Quand notre coeur a fait une fois sa vendange
Vivre est un mal. C'est un secret de tous connu,

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Song. "You gave your love a posy and she set it on a stand"

© Frances Anne Kemble

You gave your love a posy and she set it on a stand,

  Where it freshly bloom'd and sweetly did smell:

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Sonnet. On Leigh Hunt's Poem 'The Story of Rimini'

© John Keats

Who loves to peer up at the morning sun,

With half-shut eyes and comfortable cheek,

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Sonnet XXIX. To Miss C----

© Charlotte Turner Smith

On being desired to attempt writing a Comedy.
WOULD'ST thou then have me tempt the comic scene
Of gay Thalia? used so long to tread
The gloomy paths of sorrow's cypress shade;

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Suggested By The Death Of Charles Skinner Matthews

© John Kenyon

Joyously launched on life's untravelled streams,

  Youth fears nor open sea nor treacherous bay;