Smile poems
/ page 242 of 369 /Repining
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
She sat alway thro' the long day
Spinning the weary thread away;
And ever said in undertone:
'Come, that I be no more alone.'
Epilogue
© Eugene Field
The day is done; and, lo! the shades
Melt 'neath Diana's mellow grace.
Hark, how those deep, designing maids
Feign terror in this sylvan place!
Come, friends, it's time that we should go;
We're honest married folk, you know.
The Irish Avatar
© George Gordon Byron
Ere the daughter of Brunswick is cold in her grave,
And her ashes still float to their home o'er the tide,
Lo! George the triumphant speeds over the wave,
To the long-cherish'd isle which he loved like his--bride!
The Old Year And The New
© James Whitcomb Riley
As one in sorrow looks upon
The dead face of a loyal friend,
By the dim light of New Year's dawn
I saw the Old Year end.
Honour Dishonoured
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
To--night, unwelcomed at these gates of woe
I stand with churls, and there is none to greet
My weariness with smile or courtly show
Nor, though I hunger long, to bring me meat.
God! what a little accident of gold
Fences our weakness from the wolves of old!
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 5.
© William Cowper
Adam. Restrain, restrain thy step
Whoe'er thou art, nor with thy songs inveigle
Him, who has only cause for ceaseless tears.
Pauline
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
To die for what we love! Oh! there is power
In the true heart, and pride, and joy, for this;
It is to live without the vanish'd light
That strength is needed. -Anon
The Peasant And His Angry Lord
© Jean de La Fontaine
'TWAS vain that Gregory a pardon prayed;
For trivial faults the peasant dearly paid;
His throat enflamed-his tender back well beat-
His money gone-and all to make complete,
Without the least deduction for the pain,
The blows and garlic gave the trembling swain.
Among the Hills
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Through Sandwich notch the west-wind sang
Good morrow to the cotter;
And once again Chocoruas horn
Of shadow pierced the water.
Lucasta Weeping
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Lucasta wept, and still the bright
Inamour'd god of day,
With his soft handkercher of light,
Kist the wet pearles away.
The Minstrel
© Arthur Henry Adams
An Incident in One Act.
PERSONS. THE KING, THE QUEEN, EARL ATHULF, THE MINSTREL.
Heralds, Pages, Men-at-Arms, Sentries. TIME: THE PAST.
SCENE:
A Sore Point
© Jessie Pope
It was clear that poor Richard was out of the running,
His mortification he could not disguise.
She flirted with Edward, the company shunning,
Soul leaping to soul through their eloquent eyes.
Devotion of years had he lavished in vain,
But the luck took a turn when Ted trod on her train.
The Farmer's Boy - Summer
© Robert Bloomfield
Here, midst the boldest triumphs of her worth,
NATURE herself invites the REAPERS forth;
Dares the keen sickle from its twelvemonth's rest,
And gives that ardour which in every breast
From infancy to age alike appears,
When the first sheaf its plumy top uprears.
Marmion: Introduction to Canto IV.
© Sir Walter Scott
An ancient minstrel sagely said,
"Where is the life which late we led?"
Frederick Henry Hedge D. D. On His 80th Birthday, Dec. 12, 1885
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
WHAT lapse or accident of time
Can dull that soul's sonorous chime
Which owns the priceless heritage
Youth's summer warmth in wintry age?