Smile poems
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Quiet
© Madison Julius Cawein
A log-hut in the solitude,
A clapboard roof to rest beneath!
This side, the shadow-haunted wood;
That side, the sunlight-haunted heath.
Song Of Nature
© Henry David Thoreau
Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gull of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter IV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
How shall I take up this vain parable
And ravel out its issue? Heaven and Hell,
The principles of good and evil thought,
Embodied in our lives, have blindly fought
Sonnet LIII: Drawn
© Samuel Daniel
Drawn by th'attractive virtue of her eyes,
My touch'd heart turns it to that happy coast;
A poem, Sacred to the Glorious memory of King George
© Richard Savage
He said.-Again, with Majesty refin'd,
Up-wing'd to Realms of Bliss, th'Ætherial Mind.
Minor Litany
© Stephen Vincent Benet
This is for those who work and those who may not,
For those who suddenly come to a locked door,
And the work falls out of their hands;
For those who step off the pavement into hell,
Having not observed the red light and the warning signals
Because they were busy or ignorant or proud.
The Lament Of Tasso
© George Gordon Byron
I.
Long years!--It tries the thrilling frame to bear
And eagle-spirit of a child of Song--
Long years of outrage, calumny, and wrong;
The Columbiad: Book II
© Joel Barlow
High o'er his world as thus Columbus gazed,
And Hesper still the changing scene emblazed,
Round all the realms increasing lustre flew,
And raised new wonders to the Patriarch's view.
To My Friend - Ode III
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
BE void of feeling!
A heart that soon is stirr'd,
Is a possession sad
Upon this changing earth.
Mama I'll Sing One For You
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I've sung my songs on dusty roads and dirty city sidewalks
To sweatin' hard eyed brakemen, in the rail yards I rolled through
I've sung in blue wall papered rooms to girls I played at lovin'
Now Mama
I'll sing one song for you
The Farmer's Boy - Winter
© Robert Bloomfield
If now in beaded rows drops deck the spray,
While _Phoebus_ grants a momentary ray,
Let but a cloud's broad shadow intervene,
And stiffen'd into gems the drops are seen;
And down the furrow'd oak's broad southern side
Streams of dissolving rime no longer glide.
Marco Bozzaris
© Fitz-Greene Halleck
At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
