Sad poems
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Sonnet LXVII: On Passing over a Dreary Tract
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Swift fleet the billowy clouds along the sky,
Earth seems to shudder at the storm aghast;
To Virgil, Written at the Request of the Mantuans for the N
© Alfred Tennyson
Poet of the happy Tityrus
piping underneath his beechen bowers;
Poet of the poet-satyr
whom the laughing shepherd bound with flowers;
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 83. Dip down upon the northern shore
© Alfred Tennyson
O thou new-year, delaying long,
Delayest the sorrow in my blood,
That longs to burst a frozen bud
And flood a fresher throat with song.
The Lotus
© Rabindranath Tagore
On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying,
and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.
A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty
© Edmund Spenser
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
Astrophel and Stella
© Sir Philip Sidney
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Rubaiyat
© Tanwir Phool
Jo lamHa guzartaa hai who keya detaa hai?
Dauraaniya-e-zeest bataa detaa hai
Aie Phool ! ghaTaa umr se ik aur baras
Jaataa huwaa har saal sadaa detaa hai
Paul Revere's Ride
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five:
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
Benevolence
© Allama Muhammad Iqbal
Saying that-
Over me the night is past
And in pecking day is lost!
Weep no more
© John Gould Fletcher
WEEP no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Sorrow calls no time that 's gone:
Evening Star
© Mihai Eminescu
There was, as in the fairy tales,
As ne'er in the time's raid,
There was, of famous royal blood
A most beautiful maid.
Ode to W. H. Channing
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Though loath to grieve
The evil time's sole patriot,
I cannot leave
My honied thought
For the priest's cant,
Or statesman's rant.
401. Song-Meg o’ the Mill
© Robert Burns
O KEN ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten,
An’ ken ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten?
She gotten a coof wi’ a claut o’ siller,
And broken the heart o’ the barley Miller.
The Two Doves
© Wright Elizur
Two doves once cherish'd for each other The love that brother hath for brother
Yarrow Visited. September, 1814
© William Wordsworth
And is this--Yarrow?--This the streamOf which my fancy cherished,So faithfully, a waking dream?An image that hath perished!O that some Minstrel's harp were near,To utter notes of gladness,And chase this silence from the air,That fills my heart with sadness!
Yet why?--a silvery current flowsWith uncontrolled meanderings;Nor have these eyes by greener hillsBeen soothed, in all my wanderings
On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott from Abbotsford, for Naples
© William Wordsworth
A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,Nor of the setting sun's pathetic lightEngendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height:Spirits of Power, assembled there, complainFor kindred Power departing from their sight;While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain,Saddens his voice again, and yet again
The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna
© Charles Wolfe
Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried;Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
The Mute Lovers On the Railway Journey
© Turner Charles (Tennyson)
They bade farwell; but neither spoke of love
