Sad poems
/ page 5 of 140 /
Cornucopia
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
There's a lodger lives on the first floor; (My lodgings are up in the garret;)At night and at morn he taketh a horn, And calleth his neighbors to share it, --A horn so long and a horn so strong, I wonder how they can bear it
The Parson's Grave
© Craig Thomas
His tombstone tells a tale of woe -- The story of a saddened life --"Here lies the Reverend Jonas Lowe, The victim of a faithless wife."
The Task: from Book V: The Winter Morning Walk
© William Cowper
'Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orbAscending, fires th' horizon: while the clouds,That crowd away before the driving wind,More ardent as the disk emerges more,Resemble most some city in a blaze,Seen through the leafless wood
Presentiment
© Hartley Coleridge
Something has my heart to saySomething on my brest does weighThat when I would full fain be gay Still pulls me back.
The Shipman's Tale in the Hengwrt Manuscript of the Canterbury Tales
© Geoffrey Chaucer
{{Folio 204r}}¶Here bigynneth the Shipmannes tale A Marchant whilom / dwelled at Seint Denys That riche was / for which men helde hym wys A wyf he hadde / of excellent beautee And compaignable / and reuelous was she Which is a thyng/ that cau{s}eth moore di{s}pence Than worth / is al the cheere and reuerence That men hem doon / at fe{s}tes and at daunces Swiche salutacions / and contenances Pa{ss}en / as dooth a shadwe vp on the wal But wo is hym / that payen moot for al The sely hou{s}bonde / algate he moot paye He moot vs clothe / and he moot vs arraye Al for his owene wor{s}hip / richely In which array / we dauncen iolily And if
þt
he noght may /
per
"The Day is Done"
© Cary Phoebe
The day is done, and darkness From the wing of night is loosed,As a feather is wafted downward From a chicken going to roost.
Geert
© Buckton Alice Mary
They brought him in at midnight, Across the saddle-bow --Geert of the ripe and chestnut hair, Geert of the sunny brow!
The Pied Piper of Hamelin: A Child's Story
© Robert Browning
(Written for, and inscribed to, W. M. the Younger)
Risus Dei
© Brown Thomas Edward
Methinks in Him there dwells alwayA sea of laughter very deep,Where the leviathans leap,And little children play,Their white feet twinkling on its crisped edge;But in the outer bayThe strong man drives the wedgeOf polished limbs,And swims
Six Years Later
© Joseph Brodsky
So long had life together been that nowthe second of January fell againon Tuesday, making her astonished browlift like a windshield wiper in the rain, so that her misty sadness cleared, and showed a cloudless distance waiting up the road
We sat entwined an hour or two together
© Christopher John Brennan
We sat entwined an hour or two together(how long I know not) underneath pine-treesthat rustled ever in the soft spring weatherstirr'd by the sole suggestion of the breeze:
A Song from a Sandhill
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Drip, drip, drip! It tinkles on the fly--The pitiless outpouring of an overburdened sky:Each drooping frond of pine has got a jewel at its tip--First a twinkle, then a sprinkle, and a drip, drip, drip
Kelly's Conversion
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Kelly the Rager half opened an eyeTo wink at the Army passing by,While his hot breath, thick with the taint of beer,Came forth from his lips in a drunken jeer
Fogarty's Gin
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
A sweat-dripping horse and a half-naked myall,And a message: "Come out to the back of the run--Be out at the stake-yards by rising of sun!Ride hard and fail not! there's the devil to pay:For the men from Monkyra have mustered the run--Cows and calves, calves of ours, without ever a brand,Fifty head, if there's one, on the camp there they stand
