Smile poems
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From Anacreon: 'Twas Now The Hour When Night Had Driven
© George Gordon Byron
'Twas now the hour when Night had driven
Her car half round yon sable heaven;
On The Death Of Mrs. Elizabeth Filmer. An Elegiacall Epitaph
© Richard Lovelace
You that shall live awhile, before
Old time tyrs, and is no more:
When that this ambitious stone
Stoopes low as what it tramples on:
Sonnet XXIV: Pride of Youth
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Even as a child, of sorrow that we give
The dead, but little in his heart can find,
The Mother Of A Poet
© Sara Teasdale
She is too kind, I think, for mortal things,
Too gentle for the gusty ways of earth;
God gave to her a shy and silver mirth,
And made her soul as clear
The Slave Ships
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"ALL ready?" cried the captain;
"Ay, ay!" the seamen said;
"Heave up the worthless lubbers,
The dying and the dead."
Herrenston
© William Barnes
Zoo then the leädy an' the squier,
At Chris'mas, gather'd girt an' small,
Song.
© Richard Lovelace
I.
In mine one monument I lye,
And in my self am buried;
Sure, the quick lightning of her eye
Mogg Megone - Part II.
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"O, tell me, father, can the dead
Walk on the earth, and look on us,
And lay upon the living's head
Their blessing or their curse?
For, O, last night she stood by me,
As I lay beneath the woodland tree!"
Sport In The Meadows
© John Clare
Maytime is to the meadows coming in,
And cowslip peeps have gotten eer so big,
In Praise Of Angling
© Sir Henry Wotton
Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares,
Anxious sighs, untimely tears,
Death's Subtle Ways
© James Shirley
Victorious men of earth, no more
Proclaim how wide your empires are;
Though you bind in every shore
And your triumphs reach as far
A Royal Princess
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I, a princess, king-descended, decked with jewels, gilded, drest,
Would rather be a peasant with her baby at her breast,
For all I shine so like the sun, and am purple like the west.
The Poet's Songs.
© Robert Crawford
The copse-wood merely sows
Itself, not planted;
And so it is with those
Strange and enchanted
When Bessie Died
© James Whitcomb Riley
If from your own the dimpled hands had slipped,
And ne'er would nestle in your palm again;
If the white feet into the grave had tripped--"
To Italy (1818)
© Giacomo Leopardi
My country, I the walls, the arches see,
The columns, statues, and the towers
Our River
© John Greenleaf Whittier
FOR A SUMMER FESTIVAL AT "THE LAURELS" ON THE MERRIMAC.
Once more on yonder laurelled height
The Young Greek Odalisque
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined,
And fairer form the harems walls had neer before enshrined;
Mid all the young and lovely ones who round her clustered there,
With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she shone supremely fair.
