Sad poems
/ page 119 of 140 /A Wish
© Alexander Pushkin
The days drag on, each moment multiplies
Within my wounded heart the pain and sadness
Of an unhappy love and, dark, gives rise.
To sleepless dreams, the haunting dreams of madness
Celandine
© Edward Thomas
But this was a dream; the flowers were not true,
Until I stooped to pluck from the grass there
One of five petals and I smelt the juice
Which made me sigh, remembering she was no more,
Gone like a never perfectly recalled air.
A Late Walk
© Robert Frost
When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
sholaa thaa jal-bujhaa huu
© Ahmad Faraz
sholaa thaa jal-bujhaa huu.N havaaye.n mujhe na do
mai.n kab kaa jaa chukaa huu.N sadaaye.n mujhe na do
Thursos Landing
© Robinson Jeffers
In the night Reave dreamed that Helen
Lay with him in the deep grave, he awoke loathing her,
But when the weak moment between sleep and waking
Was past, his need of her and his judgment of her
Knew their suspended duel; and he heard her breathing,
Irregularly, gently in the dark.
Chords
© Madison Julius Cawein
When love delays, when love delays and Joy
Steals a strange shadow o'er the happy hills,
And Hope smiles from To-morrow, nor fulfills
One promise of To-day, thy sight would cloy
This soul with loved despair
By seeing thee so fair.
The Dagger
© Mikhail Lermontov
I like you well, O trusty dagger mine,
My comrade wrought of cool Damascus steel!
Forged were you by the Georgian with revenge in the mind,
By the Circassian free - for war were you made keen.
The Crucible Of Life
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sunshine and shadow, blue sky and gray,
Laughter and tears as we tread on our way;
Hearts that are heavy, then hearts that are light,
Eyes that are misty and eyes that are bright;
Losses and gains in the heat of the strife,
Each in proportion to round out his life.
Clarence Darrow
© Edgar Lee Masters
This is Darrow,
Inadequately scrawled, with his young, old heart,
And his drawl, and his infinite paradox
And his sadness, and kindness,
And his artist sense that drives him to shape his life
To something harmonious, even against the schemes of God.
Here I Love You
© Pablo Neruda
Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.
The Men Of The Open Spaces
© William Henry Ogilvie
These are the men with the sun-tanned faces
and the keen far-sighted eyes-
the men of the open spaces,
and the land where the mirage lies.
Yesterday and Today XII
© Khalil Gibran
The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles
Lonesome
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
MOTHER's gone a-visitin' to spend a month er two,
An', oh, the house is lonesome ez a nest whose birds has flew
Coeur De Lion At The Bier Of His Father
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Torches were blazing clear,
Hymns pealing deep and slow,
A Letter To Dr. Helsham
© Jonathan Swift
The dullest beast, and gentleman's liquor,
When young is often due to the vicar,[1]
Little Oliver
© William Schwenck Gilbert
EARL JOYCE he was a kind old party
Whom nothing ever could put out,
Though eighty-two, he still was hearty,
Excepting as regarded gout.
Some Day
© Edgar Albert Guest
SOME day our eyes will brighten, and some day our hearts will lighten,
Some day the sun will shine for you and me;
Monimia. An Ode
© John Logan
In weeds of sorrow wildly 'dight,
Alone beneath the gloom of night,
Monimia went to mourn;
She left a mother's fond alarms;
Ah! never to return!
Songs Of The Imprisoned Naiad
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"WOE! woe is me! the centuries pass away,
The mortal seasons run their ceaseless rounds,
While here I wither for the sunbright day,
Its genial sights and sounds.
Woe! woe is me!
A Negress
© Stéphane Mallarme
Possessed by a demon a negress
Wants to taste a girl-child saddened by new fruits
Unlawful ones too under the ragged dress,
This gluttons ready to try a trick or two: