Sad poems
/ page 92 of 140 /"Sadder than lark when lowering"
© Alfred Austin
Sadder than lark when lowering
Clouds defend the sky;
The Poets Choice
© Caroline Norton
I.
'Twas in youth, that hour of dreaming;
Round me, visions fair were beaming,
Golden fancies, brightly gleaming,
To The Sinking Sun
© Francis Thompson
How graciously thou wear'st the yoke
Of use that does not fail!
The grasses, like an anchored smoke,
Ride in the bending gale;
This knoll is snowed with blosmy manna,
And fire-dropt as a seraph's mail.
Rhoecus
© James Russell Lowell
God sends his teachers unto every age,
To every clime, and every race of men,
A Rhymed Lesson (Urania)
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Are angel faces, silent and serene,
Bent on the conflicts of this little scene,
Whose dream-like efforts, whose unreal strife,
Are but the preludes to a larger life?
Magnificence
© John Skelton
What I say herke a worde.
Fansy.
Do away I say the deuylles torde.
Counterfet coun.
Scenes Favourable To Meditation
© William Cowper
Wilds horrid and dark with o'er shadowing trees,
Rocks that ivy and briers infold,
Scenes nature with dread and astonishment sees,
But I with a pleasure untold;
Properzia Rossi
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Tell me no more, no more
Of my soul's lofty gifts! Are they not vain
To My Friend OnThe Death Of His Sister
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Thine is a grief, the depth of which another
May never know;
Yet, o'er the waters, O my stricken brother!
To thee I go.
The Cōforte of Louers
© Stephen Hawes
The prohemye.
The gentyll poetes/vnder cloudy fygures
Do touche a trouth/and clokeit subtylly
Harde is to cōstrue poetycall scryptures
From Egmont
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Full arm'd for the strife,
While his hand grasps his lance
As they proudly advance.
When The Old Man Smokes
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
In the forenoon's restful quiet,
When the boys are off at school,
The North Sea -- First Cycle
© Heinrich Heine
Once through heaven went shining,
Wedded and one,
Luna the Goddess, and Sol the God,
And the stars in multitudes thronged around them,
Their little, innocent children.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
At such a time indeed of youth's first morn,
There is a heaving of the soul in pain,
A mighty labour as of joys unborn,
Which grieves it and disquiets it in vain.
I think it rains
© Wole Soyinka
I think it rains
That tongues may loosen from the parch
Uncleave roof-tops of
the mouth, hang
Heavy with knowledge
The Maids of the Mountains
© Anonymous
In the wild Weddin Mountains there live two young dames
Kate O'Meally, Bet Mayhew are their pretty names;
These maids of the mountains are bonny bush belles,
They ride out on horseback, togged out like young swells.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - July
© George MacDonald
1.
ALAS, my tent! see through it a whirlwind sweep!
A Duet
© Thomas Sturge Moore
'FLOWERS nodding gaily, scent in air,
Flowers posied, flowers for the hair,
Sleepy flowers, flowers bold to stare--'
'O pick me some!'