Sad poems
/ page 98 of 140 /
Only A Sad Mistake
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Only a blunder-a sad mistake;
All my own fault and mine alone.
The saddest error a heart can make;
I was so young, or I would have known.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 05
© William Langland
The Kyng and hise knyghtes to the kirke wente
To here matyns of the day and the masse after.
The Shepheardes Calender: November
© Edmund Spenser
November: Ægloga vndecima. Thenot & Colin.
Thenot.
Colin my deare, when shall it please thee sing,
As thou were
Bianca's Dream - A Venetian Story
© Thomas Hood
BIANCA!fair Bianca!who could dwell
With safety on her dark and hazel gaze,
Thick-Headed Thoughts: Part 3
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
'Tis a wicked world we live in;
Wrong in reason, wrong in rhyme;
But no matter: we'll not give in
While we still can come to time.
The Joy Of A Dog
© Edgar Albert Guest
Ma says no, it's too much care
An' it will scatter germs an' hair,
To Eleonora Duse I
© Sara Teasdale
Oh beauty that is filled so full of tears,
Where every passing anguish left its trace,
I pray you grant to me this depth of grace:
That I may see before it disappears,
Absence
© William Lisle Bowles
There is strange music in the stirring wind,
When lowers the autumnal eve, and all alone
Think No More Of Me
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Think no more of me,
If we needs must part.
Mine was but a heart.
Think no more of me.
The Three Christmas Waits
© William Makepeace Thackeray
"When this black year began,
This Eighteen-forty-eight,
I was a great great man,
And king both vise and great,
And Munseer Guizot by me did show
As Minister of State.
Italy : 13. Coll'Alto
© Samuel Rogers
"In this neglected mirror (the broad frame
Of massy silver serves to testify
That many a noble matron of the house
Has sat before it) once, alas, was seen
Death In A Ball-Room
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Oh many, many thus have died, alas,
Children, poor things! The grave will have its prey.
Some flowers must still be mown down with the grass,
And in life's wild quadrille the dancers gay
Must trample here and there a weak one in their way.
The King of Canoodle-Dum
© William Schwenck Gilbert
The story of FREDERICK GOWLER,
A mariner of the sea,
Try and don't let me grieve
© Boris Pasternak
Try and don't let me grieve. Come and try to extinguish
This wild onslaught of sadness that rumbles like mercury in Torricellian void.
Madness, try and forbid me to feel, come and try!
Do not let me rant on about you! We're alone-don't be shy.
Now, extinguish it, do! Only-hotter!
Calef In Boston, 1692
© John Greenleaf Whittier
IN the solemn days of old,
Two men met in Boston town,
One a tradesman frank and bold,
One a preacher of renown.
Sir Eustace Grey
© George Crabbe
And shall I then the fact deny?
I was--thou know'st--I was begone,
Like him who fill'd the eastern throne,
To whom the Watcher cried aloud;
That royal wretch of Babylon,
Who was so guilty and so proud.
The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - The Buried City
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Beside that giant stream that foams and swells
Betwixt Hy-Conaill and Moyarta's shore,
And guards the isle where good Senanus dwells,
A gentle maiden dwelt in days of yore.
