Smile poems
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Elegy
© James Beattie
Tired with the busy crowds, that all the day
Impatient throng where Folly's altars flame,
My languid powers dissolve with quick decay,
Till genial Sleep repair the sinking frame.
Pa And The Monthly Bills
© Edgar Albert Guest
When Ma gets out the monthly bills and sets them all in front of Dad,
She makes us children run away because she knows he may get mad;
An' then she smiles a bit and says: "I hope you will not fuss and fret--
There's nothing here except the things I absolutely had to get!"
An' Pa he looks 'em over first. "The things you had to have!" says he;
"I s'pose that we'd have died without that twenty dollar longeree."
The Snowdrop In The Snow
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
O full of Faith! The Earth is rock,-the Heaven
The dome of a great palace all of ice,
A Song Of Sydney
© Ethel Castilla
High headlands all jealously hide thee,
O fairest of sea-girdled towns!
The Ancient Printman
© James Whitcomb Riley
"O Printerman of sallow face,
And look of absent guile,
Is it the 'copy' on your 'case'
That causes you to smile?
Or is it some old treasure scrap
You cull from Memory's file?
The Waggoner - Canto Second
© William Wordsworth
IF Wytheburn's modest House of prayer,
As lowly as the lowliest dwelling,
Had, with its belfry's humble stock,
A little pair that hang in air,
The Star And The Water-Lily
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE sun stepped down from his golden throne.
And lay in the silent sea,
Prologue: The Pleasant Comedy Of Old Fortunatus
© Thomas Dekker
OF Love's sweet war our timorous Muse doth sing,
And to the bosom of each gentle dear,
Cordelia
© William Michael Rossetti
They turn on her and fix their eyes,
But cease not passing inward;--one
Sneering with lips still curled to lies,
Sinuous of body, serpent-wise;
Her footfall creeps, and her looks shun
The very thing on which they dwell.
The Imprisoned Innocents
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ONE morning I said to my wife,
Near the time when the heavens are rife
With the Equinoctial strife,
"Arabella, the weather looks ugly as sin!
Sonnet. "Oft let me wander hand in hand with Thought"
© Frances Anne Kemble
Oft let me wander hand in hand with Thought,
In woodland paths, and lone sequestered shades,
Ode On Lord Hay's BirthDay
© James Beattie
A Muse, unskill'd in venal praise,
Unstain'd with flattery's art;
Who loves simplicity of lays
Breathed ardent from the heart;
True Love
© William Barnes
As evenèn aïr, in green-treed Spring,
Do sheäke the new-sprung pa'sley bed,
Quickness
© Henry Vaughan
False life, a foil and no more, when
Wilt thou be gone?
Thou foul deception of all men
That would not have the true come on.
Before Action
© Leon Gellert
We always had to do our work at night.
I wondered why we had to be so sly.
I wondered why we couldn't have our fight
Under the open sky.
Christmas Song of the Old Children
© George MacDonald
Well for youth to seek the strong,
Beautiful, and brave!
We, the old, who walk along
Gently to the grave,
Only pay our court to thee,
Child of all Eternity!
Lines: Written In 'Letters Of An Italian Nun And An English Gentleman'
© George Gordon Byron
'Away, away, your fleeting arts
May now betray some simpler hearts;
And you will smile at their believing,
And they shall weep at your deceiving.'
Morning
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O GRACIOUS breath of sunrise! divine air!
That brood'st serenely o'er the purpling hills;
O blissful valleys! nestling, cool and fair,
In the fond arms of yonder murmurous rills,
Well! Thou Art Happy
© George Gordon Byron
Well! thou art happy, and I feel
That I should thus be happy too;
For still my heart regards thy weal
Warmly, as it was wont to do.
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet VII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Ah, Paris, Paris! What an echo rings
Still in those syllables of vain delight!
What voice of what dead pleasures on what wings
Of Maenad laughters pulsing through the night!
