Sad poems
/ page 103 of 140 /I Would Like To Describe
© Zbigniew Herbert
I would like to describe the simplest emotion
joy or sadness
but not as others do
reaching for shafts of rain or sun
The Complacent Slacker
© Edgar Albert Guest
When he was just a lad in school,
He used to sit around and fool
Life
© Edgar Albert Guest
A WEE bit of sorrow
And sadness and pain,
But sunshine tomorrow
And laughter again.
The Answer
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Spare me, dread angel of reproof,
And let the sunshine weave to-day
Its gold-threads in the warp and woof
Of life so poor and gray.
The Voice
© Henri de Regnier
I do not wish anyone to be near my sadness
Not even your dear step and your loved face,
Nor your indolent hand which caresses with a finger
The lazy ribbon and the closed book.
The Bush Fire
© William Henry Ogilvie
The Sun has signed his nightly armistice,
Drawn a dark cloud across his crimson breast,
And gone to war with other lands than this,
Lowering his splendid banners from the west.
Down the world's edge the summer lightnings play,
Their broadswords flashing o'er departed day.
Flowers, Dear Flowers, Farewell!
© Louisa May Alcott
"We are sending you, dear flowers,
Forth alone to die,
To a Sea Shell
© Hubert Church
Friend of my chamber-O thou spiral shell
That murmurest of the ever-murmuring sea!
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Knowledge. Book I.
© Matthew Prior
But, O! ere yet original man was made,
Ere the foundations of this earth were laid,
It was opponent to our search ordain'd,
That joy still sought should never be attain'd:
This sad experience cites me to reveal,
And what I dictate is from what I feel.
She's All My Fancy Painted Him
© Lewis Carroll
She's all my fancy painted him
(I make no idle boast);
If he or you had lost a limb,
Which would have suffered most?
How Robin and His Outlaws Lived in The Woods
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
Robin and his merry men
: Lived just like the birds;
They had almost as many tracks as thoughts,
: And whistles and songs as words.
Risus Dei
© Edward Thomas
Methinks in Him there dwells alway
A sea of laughter very deep,
Where the leviathans leap,
And little children play,
Sonnets To Europa
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough
of dark becoming where it cannot be.
So much both for the soil and for the tree,
so much for things that are becoming now.
The Bluebell
© Emily Jane Brontë
The Bluebell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air:
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit's care.
Visiting A Taoist On Tiatien Mountain
© Li Po
Amongst bubbling streams
a dog barks; peach blossom
is heavy with dew; here
and there a deer can