Smile poems
/ page 124 of 369 /The Wanderer Looking Into Other Homes
© Caroline Norton
A LONE, wayfaring wretch I saw, who stood
Wearily pausing by the wicket gate;
And from his eyes there streamed a bitter flood,
Contrasting his with many a happier fate.
A Sicilian Idyll
© Thomas Sturge Moore
Cydilla
Thanks, Damon; now, by Zeus, thou art so brisk,
It shames me that to stoop should try my bones.
Worn Out
© Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Thy strong arms are around me, love
My head is on thy breast;
Low words of comfort come from thee
Yet my soul has no rest.
Man's Devotion
© James Whitcomb Riley
A lover said, "O Maiden, love me well,
For I must go away:
And should ANOTHER ever come to tell
Of love--What WILL you say?"
The Secret
© William Cosmo Monkhouse
SHE passes in her beauty bright
Amongst the mean, amongst the gay,
A Noonday Vision
© Frances Anne Kemble
I saw one whom I love more than my life
Stand on a perilous edge of slippery rock,
My Comforter
© Emily Jane Brontë
Well hast thou spoken, and yet, not taught
A feeling strange or new;
Thou hast but roused a latent thought,
A cloud-closed beam of sunshine, brought
To gleam in open view.
The Venetian Serenade
© Richard Monckton Milnes
When along the light ripple the far serenade
Has accosted the ear of each passionate maid,
She may open the window that looks on the stream,--
She may smile on her pillow and blend it in dream;
The Transfixed
© Arthur Rimbaud
Black in the snow and fog,
at the great lighted airshaft, their bums rounded,
on their knees, five little ones - what anguish! -
watch the baker making the heavy white bread.
Christmas Greeting
© Edgar Albert Guest
I DO not care to wait until the hand of death has smoothed your brow
Before I say what's in my heart, I'd rather tell it to you now.
I'd rather say: "How glad I am to know your cheery voice and smile,"
Than stand and say "how glad I was" in some grief-stricken after-while.
I'd rather shout: "how good you are!" than sniffle out: "how good was he!"
And so I take this Christmas Day to say you have a friend in me.
The Bacchanal Of Alexander
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
A wondrous rumour fills and stirs
The wide Carmanian Vale;
On leafy hills the sunburnt vintagers
Some Scattering Remarks Of Bub's
© James Whitcomb Riley
Wunst I looked our pepper-box lid
An' cut little pie-dough biscuits, I did,
And cooked 'em on our stove one day
When our hired girl she said I may.
Vow To Venus
© Robert Herrick
Happily I had a sight
Of my dearest dear last night;
Make her this day smile on me,
And I'll roses give to thee!
Lethe
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A DUMB, dark region through whose desolate heart
Creeps a dull river with a stagnant flood;
Its skies are sombre-hued, and dreary clouds,
No wind hath ever stirred, hang low and dim
The Shepherds Calendar - April
© John Clare
The infant april joins the spring
And views its watery skye
As youngling linnet trys its wing
And fears at first to flye
Dan Paine
© James Whitcomb Riley
Old friend of mine, whose chiming name
Has been the burthen of a rhyme
The Golden Island: Arran From Ayr
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
DEEP set in distant seas it lies;
The morning vapors float and fall,
The noonday clouds above it rise,
Then drop as white as virgin's pall.