Smile poems

 / page 242 of 369 /
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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.'

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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.

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Duncan, an Ode

© Helen Maria Williams

I.

 Abash'd the rebel squadrons yield-

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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!

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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.

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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!

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Linda To Hafed

© Thomas Moore

  FROM "THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS."


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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.

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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

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"Friday Afternoon"

© James Whitcomb Riley

To William Morris Pierson

[1868-1870]

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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.

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The Dance Of Life

© Conrad Aiken

Gracious and lovable and sweet,

 She made his jaded pulses beat,

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Among the Hills

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Through Sandwich notch the west-wind sang
 Good morrow to the cotter;
And once again Chocorua’s horn
 Of shadow pierced the water.

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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.

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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:

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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.

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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.

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False

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

False! Good God, I am dreaming!

No, no, it never can be-

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Marmion: Introduction to Canto IV.

© Sir Walter Scott

An ancient minstrel sagely said,

"Where is the life which late we led?"

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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?