Smile poems
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The Ultimate Trust
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THOUGH in the wine-press of thy wrath divine,
My crushed hopes droop, like crude and worthless must,
That love and mercy, Father! still are thine,
With reverent soul, I trust!
To Helen - 1848
© Edgar Allan Poe
I saw thee once &mdash once only &mdash years ago:
I must not say how many &mdash but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Pictures On Enamel
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
When Astraled was lying, like to die
Of love's green sickness, all his bed was strown
With buds of crocus and anemone,
For other flowers yet were barely none,
Romaunt Of The Oak
© Madison Julius Cawein
"I rode to death, for I fought for shame--
The Lady Maurine of noble name,
Written In A Seat At Stoke Park, Near The Vicararage-House, Then Inhabited By The Author, And Comman
© Henry James Pye
Not with more joy from the loud tempest's roar,
The dangerous billow, and more dangerous shore,
The Wit And The Beau
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Strephon with change of Habits press'd,
And urg'd her to admire;
His Love alone the Other dress'd,
As Verse, or Prose became it best,
And mov'd her soft Desire.
An Evening Dream
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
I'm leaning where you loved to lean in eventides of old,
The sun has sunk an hour ago behind the treeless wold,
The Flag
© Julia Ward Howe
There's a flag hangs over my threshold, whose folds are more dear to me
Than the blood that thrills in my bosom its earnest of liberty;
And dear are the stars it harbors in its sunny field of blue
As the hope of a further heaven that lights all our dim lives through.
Suppose
© Walter de la Mare
Suppose ... and suppose that a wild little Horse of Magic
Came cantering out of the sky,
With bridle of silver, and into the saddle I mounted,
To fly and to fly;
Hesperia
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
OUT OF the golden remote wild west where the sea without shore is,
Full of the sunset, and sad, if at all, with the fulness of joy,
This Tattered Catechism
© Katharine Lee Bates
THIS tattered catechism weaves a spell,
Invoking from the Long Ago a child
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 07:
© Conrad Aiken
'The bells have just struck twelve: I should be sleeping.
But I cannot delay any longer to write and tell you.
The woman is dead.
She diedyou know the way. Just as we planned.
Smiling, with open sunlit eyes.
Smiling upon the outstretched fatal hand . . .'
Paracelsus: Part IV: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Festus.
So strange
That I must hope, indeed, your messenger
Has mingled his own fancies with the words
Purporting to be yours.
Taking His Place
© Edgar Albert Guest
He's doing double duty now;
Time's silver gleams upon his brow,
At Last
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
In youth, when blood was warm and fancy high,
I mocked at death. How many a quaint conceit
At The Banquet To the Japanese Embassy
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WE welcome you, Lords of the Land of the Sun!
The voice of the many sounds feebly through one;
Ah! would 't were a voice of more musical tone,
But the dog-star is here, and the song-birds have flown.
