Smile poems

 / page 219 of 369 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Trilogy Of Passion 01 To Werther

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

 The farewell sunbeams bless'd our ravish'd view;
Fate bade thee go,-to linger here was mine,-
Going the first, the smaller loss was thine.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Upon A Branch Of Flowering Acacia

© Frances Anne Kemble

The blossoms hang again upon the tree,

  As when with their sweet breath they greeted me

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Congo: A Study of the Negro Race

© Roald Dahl

I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY

Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Killing Him: A Radio Play

© John Wesley

LISTEN TO THE RADIO PLAY
JOE, a doctoral candidate in literature
RACHEL, his fiancée
POET/CRITIC

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Child Of The Islands - Autumn

© Caroline Norton

I.
BROWN Autumn cometh, with her liberal hand
Binding the Harvest in a thousand sheaves:
A yellow glory brightens o'er the land,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Italy : 10. Como

© Samuel Rogers

I love to sail along the Larian Lake
Under the shore -- though not to visit Pliny,
To catch him musing in his plane-tree walk,
Or fishing, as he might be, from his window:

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Imitations of Horace

© Alexander Pope

While you, great patron of mankind, sustain
The balanc'd world, and open all the main;
Your country, chief, in arms abroad defend,
At home, with morals, arts, and laws amend;
How shall the Muse, from such a monarch steal
An hour, and not defraud the public weal?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To Mrs. Strangeways Horner, With A Letter From My Son;

© Mary Barber

Methinks, I see your Friendship rise,
And sparkle in your lovely Eyes.
Your Heir! (I hear you now repeat)
I long to know of your Estate.
Say--Is it an Hibernian Bog,
Where Phoebus seldom shines for Fog?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Botticelli's Madonna in the Louvre

© Edith Wharton

WHAT strange presentiment, O Mother, lies

On thy waste brow and sadly-folded lips,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Other

© Edward Thomas

The forest ended. Glad I was

To feel the light, and hear the hum

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Abencerrage : Canto II.

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

"Hamet! oh, wrong me not! - too could speak
Of sorrows - trace them on my faded cheek,
In the sunk eye, and in the wasted form,
That tell the heart hath nursed a canker-worm!
But words were idle - read my sufferings there,
Where grief is stamped on all that once was fair.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Elegy with Surrealist Proverbs as Refrain

© Dana Gioia

“Poetry must lead somewhere,” declared Breton. 

He carried a rose inside his coat each day

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Mabel Martin

© John Greenleaf Whittier

PROEM.
I CALL the old time back: I bring my lay
in tender memory of the summer day
When, where our native river lapsed away,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Peace

© Robert Bloomfield

Halt! ye Legions, sheathe your Steel:

Blood grows precious; shed no more:

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Village: Book I

© George Crabbe

The village life, and every care that reigns


O'er youthful peasants and declining swains;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

On the Great Atlantic Rainway

© Kenneth Koch

I set forth one misted white day of June

Beneath the great Atlantic rainway, and heard:

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet III

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Matron was she of a great Roman house,
And wed in youth to one she might not love;
Her birth, her fortune, her name luminous,
Such as all noblest virtues most behove.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Epistle No. 36

© Carl Michael Bellman

Our Ulla lay one morning and slept,


A hand beneath her ear;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Market-Night

© Robert Bloomfield

'O Winds, howl not so long and loud;
Nor with your vengeance arm the snow:
Bear hence each heavy-loaded cloud;
And let the twinkling Star-beams glow.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Fair

© Ronald Stuart Thomas

Is generated by the smooth flow
Of the shillings. This is an orchestra
Of steel with the constant percussion
Of laughter. But where he should be laughing
Too, his features are split open, and look!
Out of the cracks come warm, human tears.