Sad poems
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Bushwick: Latex Flat by D. Nurkse: American Life in Poetry #179 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-
© Ted Kooser
I've always loved shop talk, with its wonderful language of tools and techniques. This poem by D. Nurkse of Brooklyn, New York, is a perfect example. I especially like the use of the verb, lap, in line seven, because that's exactly the sound a four-inch wall brush makes.
Bushwick: Latex Flat
Sonnet VIII. To Spring
© Charlotte Turner Smith
AGAIN the wood and long-withdrawing vale
In many a tint of tender green are drest,
Where the young leaves, unfolding, scarce conceal
Beneath their early shade, the half-form'd nest
Christmas Carol
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Ring out, ye bells!
All Nature swells
With gladness at the wondrous story, -
The world was at lorn,
But Christ is born
To change our sadness into glory.
The Pastime of Pleasure: Of dysposycyon the II. parte of rethoryke - (til line 2240)
© Stephen Hawes
Amoure.
2136 Alas madame / now the bryght lodes sterre
2137 Of my true herte / where euer I go or ryde
2138 Thoughe that my body / be frome you aferr
2139 Yet my herte onely / shall with you abyde
2140 Whan than you lyste / ye maye for me prouyde
Marthy Ellen
© James Whitcomb Riley
They's nothin' in the name to strike
A feller more'n common like!
The Wild Ride
© Louise Imogen Guiney
The trail is through dolor and dread, over crags and morasses;
There are shapes by the way, there are things that appal or entice us:
What odds? We are Knights of the Grail, we are vowed to the riding.
On Queen Anne's Peace, Anno 1713
© Thomas Parnell
Mother of plenty, daughter of the skies,
Sweet Peace, the troubl'd world's desire, arise;
Around thy poet weave thy summer shades,
Within my fancy spread thy flow'ry meads,
Amongst thy train soft ease and pleasure bring,
And thus indulgent sooth me whilst I sing.
The Power of Science
© James Brunton Stephens
"All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,"
Cairnsmill Den
© Robert Fuller Murray
As I, with hopeless love o'erthrown,
With love o'erthrown, with love o'erthrown,
And this is truth I tell,
As I, with hopeless love o'erthrown,
Was sadly walking all alone,
The Bell-Founder Part III - Vicissitude And Rest
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
O Erin! thou broad-spreading valley--thou well-watered land of fresh
streams,
When I gaze on thy hills greenly sloping, where the light of such
loveliness beams,
In the Depths of a Forest
© Henry Kendall
Oh! well may the winds with a saddening moan
Go fitfully over the branches so dreary;
And well may I kneel by the time-shattered stone,
And rejoice that a rest has been found for the weary.
The Victories Of Love. Book II
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
II
From Lady Clitheroe To Mary Churchill
Geraint And Enid
© Alfred Tennyson
Then Enid pondered in her heart, and said:
'I will go back a little to my lord,
And I will tell him all their caitiff talk;
For, be he wroth even to slaying me,
Far liefer by his dear hand had I die,
Than that my lord should suffer loss or shame.'
Ownerless
© John Shaw Neilson
He comes when the gullies are wrapped in the gloaming
And limelights are trained on the tops of the gums,
To stand at the sliprails, awaiting the homing
Of one who marched off to the beat of the drums.
The Solitary Lake
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Ah! still a something strange and rare
O'errules this tranquil earth and air,
Casting o'er both a glamour known
To their enchanted realm alone;
Whence shines, as 'twere a spirit's face,
The sweet coy genius of the place,
An Indian-Summer Reverie
© James Russell Lowell
What visionary tints the year puts on,
When failing leaves falter through motionless air
The Holy Innocents
© John Keble
Say, ye celestial guards, who wait
In Bethlehem, round the Saviour's palace gate,
Hymns to the Night : 3
© Novalis
Once when I was shedding bitter tears, when, dissolved in pain, my hope was melting away, and I stood alone by the barren mound which in its narrow dark bosom hid the vanished form of my life - lonely as never yet was lonely man, driven by anxiety unspeakable - powerless, and no longer anything but a conscious misery
