Sad poems
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To The Same (Charles Walker)
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
PUT no faith in aught you meet with, friends or lovers,
new or old,
The Winter's Walk
© Samuel Johnson
Behold, my fair, where'er we rove,
What dreary prospects round us rise,
The naked hill, the leafless grove,
The hoary ground, the frowning skies.
The Marriage Of Geraint
© Alfred Tennyson
'Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine, storm, and cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.
I would go home againto rooms...
© Boris Pasternak
I would go home againto rooms
With sadness large at eventide,
Go in, take off my overcoat,
And in the light of streets outside
November, 1851
© George MacDonald
Why wilt thou stop and start?
Draw nearer, oh my heart,
And I will question thee most wistfully;
Gather thy last clear resolution
To look upon thy dissolution.
The Fun Of Forgiving
© Edgar Albert Guest
Sometimes I'm almost glad to hear when I get home that they've been bad;
And though I try to look severe, within my heart I'm really glad
When mother sadly tells to me the list of awful things they've done,
Because when they come tearfully, forgiving them is so much fun.
The Wonder-Working Magician - Act II
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
CYPRIAN. Ever wrangling in this way,
How ye both my patience try!
Why can he not go? Say why?
The Castle Of Indolence
© James Thomson
The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.
Black spring! Pick up your pen, and weeping...
© Boris Pasternak
Black spring! Pick up your pen, and weeping,
Of February, in sobs and ink,
Write poems, while the slush in thunder
Is burning in the black of spring.
On Chenoweths Run
© Madison Julius Cawein
I thought of the road through the glen,
With its hawk's nest high in the pine;
With its rock, where the fox had his den,
'Mid tangles of sumach and vine,
Where she swore to be mine.
Tell me Brother
© Kabir
TELL me, Brother, how can I renounce Maya?
When I gave up the tying of ribbons, still I tied my garment about me:
When I gave up tying my garment, still I covered my body in its folds.
So, when I give up passion, I see that anger remains;
The Flower of Love
© Thomas Love Peacock
'Tis said the rose is Love's own flower,
Its blush so bright, its thorns so many;
Ye Wearie Wayfarer [A Dedication to the author of Holmby House"
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Fytte I
By Wood and Wold
[A Preamble]
Untitled 8
© Owen Suffolk
Thou sinless and sweet one - thy voice is a strain
Which yields solace to sadness, and balm to my pain,
The Rape Of Lucrece
© William Shakespeare
TO THE
RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
How Do You Tackle Your Work
© Franklin Pierce Adams
How do you tackle your work each day?
Are you scared of the job you find?
The Pimpernel
© Celia Thaxter
SHE walks beside the silent shore,
The tide is high, the breeze is still;
A Wreath Of Sonnets (6/14)
© France Preseren
Unblest by soothing winds of warmer days,
My songs remain, since from you, haughty maid,
They never won the word that might be said -
The word that neither saddens nor dismays.
The Damsel Of Peru
© William Cullen Bryant
Where olive leaves were twinkling in every wind that blew,
There sat beneath the pleasant shade a damsel of Peru.
Betwixt the slender boughs, as they opened to the air,
Came glimpses of her ivory neck and of her glossy hair;
And sweetly rang her silver voice, within that shady nook,
As from the shrubby glen is heard the sound of hidden brook.
For A Copy Of Theocritus
© Henry Austin Dobson
O SINGER of the field and fold,
Theocritus! Pans pipe was thine,
