Smile poems

/ page 30 of 369 /

Order by :

1
. . .
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
. . .
369

The Making Of Viola

© Francis Thompson

Smile, sweet baby, smile,
For you will have weeping-while;
Native in your Heaven is smile, -
But your weeping, Viola?

A Roman Doll

© Eleanor Agnes Lee

Me in her fresh young arms she bore.
See, I am small,
Only a doll.
But I keep her kiss forevermore.

Vields by Watervalls

© William Barnes

When our downcast looks be smileless,
Under others' wrongs an' slightens,
When our daily deeds be guileless,
An' do meet unkind requitens,

Is this a time to plant and build,
Add house to house, and field to field,
When round our walls the battle lowers,
When mines are hid beneath our towers,
And watchful foes are stealing round
To search and spoil the holy ground?

At A Birthday Festival

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

WE will not speak of years to-night,--
For what have years to bring
But larger floods of love and light,
And sweeter songs to sing?

Rokeby: Canto III.

© Sir Walter Scott

CHORUS.
"O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green;
I'd rather rove with Edmund there,
Than reign our English queen."

On The Threshold

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

AN usher standing at the door
I show my white rosette;
A smile of welcome, nothing more,
Will pay my trifling debt;
Why should I bid you idly wait
Like lovers at the swinging gate?

The Unseen Model

© George MacDonald

Forth to his study the sculptor goes
In a mood of lofty mirth:
"Now shall the tongues of my carping foes
Confess what my art is worth!
In my brain last night the vision arose,
To-morrow shall see its birth!"

Take Home A Smile

© Edgar Albert Guest

Take home a smile; forget the petty cares,
The dull, grim grind of all the day's affairs;
The day is done, come be yourself awhile:
To-night, to those who wait, take home a smile.

Elphin

© Madison Julius Cawein

The eve was a burning copper,
The night was a boundless black
Where wells of the lightning crumbled
And boiled with blazing rack,
When I came to the coal-black castle
With the wild rain on my back.

On Robert Emmet's Grave

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

VI.
No trump tells thy virtuesthe grave where they rest
With thy dust shall remain unpolluted by fame,
Till thy foes, by the world and by fortune caressed,
Shall pass like a mist from the light of thy name.

Song #5.

© Robert Crawford

Never remember what love's been,
That is the sorrow the world knows;
Forget it, or the heart too keen
Will ache and ache to the weary close.

The Humstrum

© William Barnes

Why woonce, at Chris'mas-tide, avore

The wold year wer a-reckon'd out,

The Birth Of Flattery

Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing

The passions all, their bearings and their ties;

Sporting Acquaintances

I ventured "Ages since we met," and tried
My candid smile of friendship; no success.
One scratched his hairy thigh, while t'other sighed
And glanced away. I saw they liked me less
Than when, on Epsom Downs, in cloudless weather,
We backed The Tetrarch and got drunk together.