Sports poems
/ page 9 of 24 /The Emigrant
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
FAREWELL, ah, happy shades! ah, scenes belov'd,
Of infant sports and bright unclouded hours!
Where oft in childhood's happy days I rov'd,
Thro' forest-walks, and wild secluded bow'rs!
Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth
© George Gordon Byron
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
The Shepherds Calendar - April
© John Clare
The infant april joins the spring
And views its watery skye
As youngling linnet trys its wing
And fears at first to flye
The Wrongs Of Africa, A Poem. Part The First
© William Roscoe
OFFSPRING of love divine, Humanity!
To who, his eldest born, th'Eternal gave
Ode - So dear my Lucio is to me
© William Shenstone
So dear my Lucio is to me,
So well our minds and tempers blend,
That seasons may for ever flee,
And ne'er divide me from my friend;
But let the favour'd boy forbear
To tempt with love my only fair.
Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament (excerpt)
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."
In Praise Of Angling
© Sir Henry Wotton
Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares,
Anxious sighs, untimely tears,
Prosopopoia : or, Mother Hubbards Tale
© Edmund Spenser
Yet he the name on him would rashly take,
Maugre the sacred Muses, and it make
A servant to the vile affection
Of such, as he depended most upon;
And with the sugrie sweete thereof allure
Chast Ladies eares to fantasies impure.
The Duty Of A Brother
© Charles Lamb
Why on your sister do you look,
Octavius, with an eye of scorn,
As scarce her presence you could brook?-
Under one roof you both were born.
In Praise Of Contentment
© Eugene Field
I hate the common, vulgar herd!
Away they scamper when I "booh" 'em!
But pretty girls and nice young men
Observe a proper silence when
I chose to sing my lyrics to 'em.
The Bakchesarian Fountain
© Alexander Pushkin
Has treason scaled the harem's wall,
Whose height might treason's self appal,
And slavery's daughter fled his power,
To yield her to the daring Giaour?
In Memoriam A. H. H.
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
The Grassehopper. To My Noble Friend, Mr. Charles Cotton. O
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Oh thou, that swing'st upon the waving eare
Of some well-filled oaten beard,
Drunk ev'ry night with a delicious teare
Dropt thee from Heav'n, where now th'art reard.
Ode On The Istallation of the Duke of Devonshire
© Charles Kingsley
Hence a while, severer Muses;
Spare your slaves till drear October.
The Shepherds Calendar - December-Christmass
© John Clare
Christmass is come and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now
Een want will dry its tears in mirth
And crown him wi a holly bough
The Song Of Hiawatha IV: Hiawatha And Mudjekeewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of childhood into manhood
Now had grown my Hiawatha,
The Farmer's Boy - Autumn
© Robert Bloomfield
Again, the year's _decline_, midst storms and floods,
The thund'ring chase, the yellow fading woods,
Invite my song; that fain would boldly tell
Of upland coverts, and the echoing dell,
By turns resounding loud, at eve and morn
The swineherd's halloo, or the huntsman's horn.
Coombe-Ellen
© William Lisle Bowles
Call the strange spirit that abides unseen
In wilds, and wastes, and shaggy solitudes,
The Brothers
© Richard Monckton Milnes
'Tis true, that we can sometimes speak of Death,
Even of the Deaths of those we love the best,
Without dismay or terror; we can sit
In serious calm beneath deciduous trees,