Smile poems

/ page 114 of 369 /

Order by :

1
. . .
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
. . .
369

Song

© James Whitcomb Riley

"Why do I sing--Tra-la-la-la-la!
Glad as a King?--Tra-la-la-la-la!
Well, since you ask,--
I have such a pleasant task,
I can not help but sing!

Studies at Delhi, 1876

© Alfred Comyn Lyall

Here as I sit by the Jumna bank,
Watching the flow of the sacred stream,
Pass me the legions, rank on rank,
And the cannon roar, and the bayonets gleam.

Letter To Maria Gisborne

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

The spider spreads her webs, whether she be
In poet's tower, cellar, or barn, or tree;
The silk-worm in the dark green mulberry leaves
His winding sheet and cradle ever weaves;

Elegy V

© Henry James Pye

Thee, sad Melpomene, I once again

Invoke, nor ask the idly plaintive verse:

A Vain Appeal

© Jessie Pope

[From Edwin]

Now, Angelina, put it down.

Gold-scepter'd Juno next exalts the Fair;
Her Touch endows her with imperious Air,
Self-valuing Fancy, highly-crested Pride,
Strong sov'reign Will, and some Desire to chide:
For which, an Eloquence, that aims to vex,
With native Tropes of Anger, arms the Sex.

The Botanic Garden (Part VI)

© Erasmus Darwin

"Born in yon blaze of orient sky,
"Sweet MAY! thy radiant form unfold;
"Unclose thy blue voluptuous eye,
"And wave thy shadowy locks of gold.

The Ghetto

© Lola Ridge

Cool, inaccessible air
Is floating in velvety blackness shot with steel-blue lights,
But no breath stirs the heat
Leaning its ponderous bulk upon the Ghetto
And most on Hester street…

The Present Age

© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Say not the age is hard and cold--
I think it brave and grand;
When men of diverse sects and creeds
Are clasping hand in hand.

The Land Of Happy

© Sheldon Allan Silverstein

Have you been to the land of happy,
Where everyone's happy all day,
Where they joke and they sing
Of the happiest things,

Cyder: Book I

© John Arthur Phillips

What Soil the Apple loves, what Care is due
To Orchats, timeliest when to press the Fruits,
Thy Gift, Pomona, in Miltonian Verse
Adventrous I presume to sing; of Verse
Nor skill'd, nor studious: But my Native Soil
Invites me, and the Theme as yet unsung.

Via Amoris

© Edith Nesbit

If this were Love why should I turn away?
Am I not, too, made of the common clay?
Is life so fair, am I so fortunate,
I can refuse the capricious gift of Fate,
The sudden glory, the unhoped-for flowers,
The transfiguration of my earthly hours?

Lily

© Henry Lawson

I SCORN the mana fool at most,

And ignorant and blind

The Annunciation Of The Blessed Virgin

© John Keble

Oh! Thou who deign'st to sympathise
With all our frail and fleshly ties,
Maker yet Brother dear,
Forgive the too presumptuous thought,
If, calming wayward grief, I sought
To gaze on Thee too near.

A Cry from South Africa

Africa, from her remotest strand,

Lifts to high heaven one fetter'd hand,

An Inventor

I thought this time 'twas done at last,
the workings perfected, the life in it;
and there's the flaw again, the petty flaw,
the fretting small impossibility
that has to be made possible.

Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.

How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.

To L. Blundeston

Some men be coun-

ted wise that well can talk,

Kindness

© Sylvia Plath

Kindness glides about my house.
Dame Kindness, she is so nice!
The blue and red jewels of her rings smoke
In the windows, the mirrors
Are filling with smiles.