Smile poems
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Frances Keeps Her Promise
© Ann Taylor
"MY Fanny, I have news to tell,
Your diligence quite pleases me;
You've work'd so neatly, read so well,
With cousin Jane you may take tea.
Ode VI: Hymn To Cheerfulness
© Mark Akenside
Friend to the Muse and all her train,
For thee i court the Muse again:
The Muse for thee may well exert
Her pomp, her charms, her fondest art,
Who owes to thee that pleasing sway
Which earth and peopled heaven obey.
Memory
© Louisa Stuart Costello
The high grass waves, with varied hues
Of wild flowers glowing 'mid the green;
The woods have caught a deeper shade,
And darkly skirt the distant scene.
Dreaming In The Trenches
© William Gordon McCabe
I picture her there in the quaint old room,
Where the fading fire-light starts and falls,
Alone in the twilight's tender gloom
With the shadows that dance on the dim-lit walls.
The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me
© James Whitcomb Riley
Uncle Sidney, when he wuz here,
Maked me a squirtgun out o' some
Elder-bushes 'at growed out near
Where wuz the brickyard--'way out clear
To where the toll-gate come!
Don Juan: Canto The Second
© George Gordon Byron
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
Italy : 41. An Adventure
© Samuel Rogers
Three days they lay in ambush at my gate,
Then sprung and led me captive. Many a wild
We traversed; but Rusconi, 'twas no less,
Marched by my side, and, when I thirsted, climbed
A Lament
© Arlo Bates
Her mask, however gay,
Still covers cheeks tear-wet;
She cannot, in her singing, smile
Until she can forget.
The Satin Shoes
© Thomas Hardy
'If ever I walk to church to wed,
As other maidens use,
And face the gathered eyes,' she said,
'I'll go in satin shoes!'
Written At Sea
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What is my quarrel with thee, beautiful sea,
That thus I cannot love thy waves or thee,
Or hear thy voice but it tormenteth me?
Epilogue to the 'Good Natur'd Man'
© Oliver Goldsmith
As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure
To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure;
Florence
© Alfred Austin
City acclaimed from far-off days
Fair, and baptized in field of flowers,
Once more I scan, with eager gaze,
Your soaring domes, your storied towers.
The Mothers Last Watch
© Caroline Norton
Written on the occasion of the death of the infant daughter of Her Grace the Duchess of Sutherland.
I.
HARK, through the proudly decorated halls,
How strangely sounds the voice of bitter woe,
Love Song
© Aldous Huxley
A happy infant, daubed to the eyes in juice
Of peaches that flush bloody at the core,
Naked you bask upon a south-sea shore,
While o'er your tumbling bosom the hair floats loose.
The Cambridge Churchyard
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Our ancient church! its lowly tower,
Beneath the loftier spire,
Le matin (Morning)
© Victor Marie Hugo
Le voile du matin sur les monts se déploie.
Vois, un rayon naissant blanchit la vieille tour ;
Et déjà dans les cieux s'unit avec amour,
Ainsi que la gloire à la joie,
Le premier chant des bois aux premiers feux du jour.
Horace, Book I. Ode IX.
© William Cowper
This be our part -- let Heaven dispose the rest;
If Jove command, the winds shall sleep,
That now wage war upon the foamy deep,
And gentle gales spring from the balmy west.
