Sad poems

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From Faust - I. Dedication

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Parting the vapor mist that round me plays!
My bosom finds its youthful strength again,
Feeling the magic breeze that marks your train.

A Summons

© John Greenleaf Whittier

MEN of the North-land! where's the manly spirit
Of the true-hearted and the unshackled gone?
Sons of old freemen, do we but inherit
Their names alone?

Rover

© Henry Kendall

NO classic warrior tempts my pen
To fill with verse these pages
No lordly-hearted man of men
My Muses thought engages.

The Harp Of Hoel

© William Lisle Bowles

It was a high and holy sight,
When Baldwin and his train,
With cross and crosier gleaming bright,
Came chanting slow the solemn rite,
To Gwentland's pleasant plain.

A Sad Child

© Margaret Atwood

You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.

The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book III

Fled foam underneath us, and round us, a wandering and milky smoke,
High as the Saddle-girth, covering away from our glances the tide;
And those that fled, and that followed, from the foam-pale distance broke;
The immortal desire of Immortals we saw in their faces, and sighed.

The Lay Of St. Odille

© Richard Harris Barham

Odille was a maid of a dignified race;

Her father, Count Otto, was lord of Alsace;

The Four Ages of Man

© Anne Bradstreet

1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.

In Reference to Her Children

© Anne Bradstreet

I had eight birds hatched in one nest,
Four cocks there were, and hens the rest.
I nursed them up with pain and care,
Nor cost, nor labour did I spare,

Yussouf

© James Russell Lowell

A stranger came one night to Yussouf's tent,
Saying, 'Behold one outcast and in dread,
Against whose life the bow of power is bent,
Who flies, and hath not where to lay his head;
I come to thee for shelter and for food,
To Yussouf, called through all our tribes "The Good."

The Patriot Engineer

© George Meredith

'Sirs! may I shake your hands?
My countrymen, I see!
I've lived in foreign lands
Till England's Heaven to me.
A hearty shake will do me good,
And freshen up my sluggish blood.'

Lemon Pie

The world is full of gladness,

There are joys of many kinds,

A Worldly Death-Bed

Hush! speak in accents soft and low,

And treat with careful stealth

Trilogy of Passion: I. TO WERTHER.

The farewell sunbeams bless'd our ravish'd view;
Fate bade thee go,--to linger here was mine,--
Going the first, the smaller loss was thine.

The Youth And The Millstream.

[This sweet Ballad, and the one entitled The
Maid of the Mill's Repentance, were written on the occasion of a
visit paid by Goethe to Switzerland. The Maid of the Mill's Treachery,
to which the latter forms the sequel, was not written till the following
year.]