Smile poems

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Sonnet XL: Oh, Yes! They Love

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!

I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth,

The Manor Farm

© Edward Thomas

THE rock-like mud unfroze a little, and rills
Ran and sparkled down each side of the road
Under the catkins wagging in the hedge.
But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun;

The roads also have their wistful rest,
When the weathercocks perch still and roost,
And the looks of men turn kind to clocks
And the trams go empty to their drome.
The streets also dream their dream.

Reminiscence

© John Kenyon

TO---

His Santa Claus

© Edgar Albert Guest

He will not come to him this year with all his old-time joy,
An imitation Santa Claus must serve his little boy;
Last year he heard the reindeers paw the roof above his head,
And as he dreamed the kindly saint tip-toed about his bed,
But Christmas Eve he will not come by any happy chance;
This year his kindly Santa Claus must guard a trench in France.

A Sketch

© George Gordon Byron

But to the theme, now laid aside too long,
The baleful burthen of this honest song,
Though all her former functions are no more,
She rules the circle which she served before.

Thief of the Moon

© Kenneth Slessor

Break, break thy strings, thou lutanists of earth,
Thy musics touch me not-let midnight cover
With pitchy seas those leaves of orange and lime,
I'll not repent. The world's no longer worth
One smile from thee, dear pirate of place and time,
Thief of old loves that haunted once thy lover!

Johnson' s Wonder

© Henry Lawson

ID been right round by overlands to see the world and life,
And on the boat at Plymouth I met Johnson and his wife;
He was a man who knew the world and wore the know-all smile
His wife a silly pussy catthe soft, obedient style.
His constant source of comfort was his life was all serene,
His ceaseless source of wonder was that men could be so green.

Harmon Whitney

© Edgar Lee Masters

Out of the lights and roar of cities,
Drifting down like a spark in Spoon River,
Burnt out with the fire of drink, and broken,
The paramour of a woman I took in self-contempt,

Batterson Dobyns

© Edgar Lee Masters

Did my widow flit about
From Mackinac to Los Angeles,
Resting and bathing and sitting an hour
Or more at the table over soup and meats

If One Might Live

© Ethelwyn Wetherald

If one might live ten years among the leaves,

Tenonly tenof all a life's long day,

Elegy XX. He Compares His Humble Fortune With the Distress of Others

© William Shenstone

Why droops this heart with fancied woes forlorn?
Why sinks my soul beneath this wintry sky?
What pensive crowds, by ceaseless labours worn,
What myriads, wish to be as blessed as I!

Godwin James

© Edgar Lee Masters

Harry Wilmans! You who fell in a swamp
Near Manila, following the flag,
You were not wounded by the greatness of a dream,
Or destroyed by ineffectual work,

Paul McNeely

Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane!
How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill)
In your nurse's cap and linen cuffs,
And took my hand and said with a smile:

Presentiment

WITH saintly grace and reverent tread
She walked among the graves with me;
Her every footfall seemed to be
A benediction on the dead.

The Last Question: (For B. A. Bingham)

They lifted up his weary head,
Stained with a dark and bitter dew:
"How does the battle go?" he said.

Winter Dusk

Dark frost was in the air without,
The dusk was still with cold and gloom,
When less than even a shadow came
And stood within the room.

The Patchwork Bonnet

Across the room my silent love I throw,
Where you sit sewing in bed by candlelight,
Your young stern profile and industrious fingers
Displayed against the blind in a shadow-show,
To Dinda's grave delight.