Sad poems
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Don Juan: Canto The Second
© George Gordon Byron
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
The Mothers Last Watch
© Caroline Norton
Written on the occasion of the death of the infant daughter of Her Grace the Duchess of Sutherland.
I.
HARK, through the proudly decorated halls,
How strangely sounds the voice of bitter woe,
Woman On The Field Of Battle
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Where hath not a woman stood,
Strong in affection's might? a reed, upborne
By an o'er mastering current!
The Bad Squire
© Charles Kingsley
The merry brown hares came leaping
Over the crest of the hill,
Where the clover and corn lay sleeping
Under the moonlight still.
The Observant "Eldest" Speaks
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"PA vows that all gluttony's wicked;
He's always for docking my meat,
And ne'er at dessert will he give me
Enough of what's racy and sweet:
The Heroins Or Cupid Punishd Transl: From Ausonius.
© Thomas Parnell
In airy fields ye fields of bliss below
Where woods of Myrtle sett by Maro grow
Where grass beneath & shade diffusd above
Refresh the feavour of distracted Love
There at a solemn tide ye Beautys slain
By tender passion act their fates again
Tell Me, Is The Rose Naked?
© Pablo Neruda
Is there anything in the world sadder
Than a train standing in the rain?.
The Old Yaller Slicker
© Arthur Chapman
The old yaller slicker's the cowpuncher's friend-
His saddle is never without it-
It's rolled in a bundle and tied at each end,
But it's ready for service, don't doubt it.
In A College Garden
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Senex. Saye, cushat, callynge from the brake,
What ayles thee soe to pyne?
The Wife Of Brittany
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
TRUTH wed to beauty in an antique tale,
Sweet-voiced like some immortal nightingale,
Trills the clear burden of her passsionate lay,
As fresh, as fair as wonderful to-day
As when the music of her balmy tongue
Ravished the first warm hearts for whom she sung.
The Legend Of Lady Gertrude
© Ada Cambridge
E'en till the woods and hamlets down below,
And summer meadows, were all broad and clear;
The river, moving statelily and slow,
A crimson ribbon in the sunset glow-
The dim, white, distant city strangely near.
The Old Land And The Young Land
© Alfred Austin
The Young Land said, ``I have borne it long,
But can suffer it now no more;
I must end this endless inhuman wrong
Within hail of my own free shore.
So fling out the war-flag's folds, and let the righteous cannons roar!''
Margrave
© Robinson Jeffers
But who is our judge? It is likely the enormous
Beauty of the world requires for completion our ghostly increment,
It has to dream, and dream badly, a moment of its night.
Why Moan, Why Wail You, Wind Of Night
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
Why moan, why wail you, wind of night,
With such despair, such frenzied madness?
Her Last Letter: Being a Reply to 'His Answer'
© Francis Bret Harte
June 4th! Do you know what that date means?
June 4th! By this air and these pines!
The Sylph Of Summer
© William Lisle Bowles
God said, Let there be light, and there was light!
At once the glorious sun, at his command,
