Smile poems
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Mutability
© Rupert Brooke
Dear, we know only that we sigh, kiss, smile;
Each kiss lasts but the kissing; and grief goes over;
Love has no habitation but the heart.
Poor straws! on the dark flood we catch awhile,
Cling, and are borne into the night apart.
The laugh dies with the lips, `Love' with the lover.
Another Mouth To Feed
© Edgar Albert Guest
We've got another mouth to feed,
From out our little store;
The Singing Leaves
© James Russell Lowell
'What fairings will ye that I bring?'
Said the King to his daughters three;
'For I to Vanity Fair am bound,
Now say what shall they be?'
Going Deaf by Miller Williams: American Life in Poetry #209 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I've gotten to the age at which I am starting to strain to hear things, but I am glad to have gotten to that age, all the same. Here's a fine poem by Miller Williams of Arkansas that gets inside a person who is losing her hearing.
Going Deaf
Al Aaraaf: Part 2
© Edgar Allan Poe
"My Angelo! and why of them to be?
A brighter dwelling-place is here for thee-
And greener fields than in yon world above,
And woman's loveliness- and passionate love."
Unfortunate
© Rupert Brooke
She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,
So that I think all Heaven in flower to fold me.
She'll give me all I ask, kiss me and hold me,
And open wide upon that holy air
The gates of peace, and take my tiredness home,
Kinder than God. But, heart, she will not care.
Afternoon
© Eli Siegel
Hear Mr. Bulwer as he talks.
You might think he was so cheerful.
That smile took him ages to get
And he uses it this minute.
The Storm
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Stooping over London, skies convulsed
With thunder moved: a rumour of storm remote
Hushed them, and birds flew troubled. The gradual clouds
Up from the West climbing, above the East
The Woodsmen Of San Juan
© Jose Asuncion Silva
See the woodsmen of San Juan,
They want bread before its gone.
Sss-sss-sawing,
Sawing on!
"Blessed are they that Mourn"
© William Cullen Bryant
Oh, deem not they are blest alone
Whose lives a peaceful tenor keep;
The Power who pities man, has shown
A blessing for the eyes that weep.
Welcome To Our Canadian Spring
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
We welcome thy coming, bright, sunny Spring,
To this snow-clad land of ours,
The Stricken South To The North
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN ruthful time the South's memorial places--
Her heroes' graves--had wreathed in grass and flowers;
When Peace ethereal, crowned by all her graces,
Returned to make more bright the summer hours;
The Old Homestead
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
'Tis an old deserted homestead
On the outskirts of the town,
Easter-Day
© Alessandro Manzoni
Yes, HE IS RISEN. That hallowéd head
No longer lies wrapped in the cloth of the dead.
HE IS SURELY RISEN. At the side of the tomb
Lies the overturned door of the solitary room.
Like the valorous champion drunk after strife
The LORD has awaked to omnipotent life;
The Old Vicarage, Granchester
© Rupert Brooke
Just now the lilac is in bloom,
All before my little room;
And in my flower-beds, I think,
Smile the carnation and the pink;
Out At Plough
© William Barnes
Though cool avore the sheenèn sky
Do vall the sheädes below the copse,
The Child
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
I MAY not lift him in my arms. His face I may not see--
Are angel hands more tender than a mother's hands may be?
And does he smile to hear the song an angel stole from me?
Chattanooga
© Herman Melville
(November, 1863)A kindling impulse seized the host
Inspired by heaven's elastic air;
Their hearts outran their General's plan,
Though Grant commanded there -
