Thankful poems
/ page 12 of 18 /Cousin Rufus' Story
© James Whitcomb Riley
My little story, Cousin Rufus said,
Is not so much a story as a fact.
Chalkey Hall
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, once again revive, while on my ear
The cry of Gain
And low hoarse hum of Traffic die away,
Ye blessed memories of my early day
Like sere grass wet with rain!
A Rustic Seat Near The Sea
© William Lisle Bowles
To him, who, many a night upon the main,
At mid-watch, from the bounding vessel's side,
Truth
© William Cowper
Man, on the dubious waves of error toss'd,
His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost,
An Ode For The Fourth Of July
© James Russell Lowell
Entranced I saw a vision in the cloud
That loitered dreaming in yon sunset sky,
Irene
© James Russell Lowell
Hers is a spirit deep, and crystal-clear;
Calmly beneath her earnest face it lies,
Prothalamion
© Horace Smith
Go, like St. Simon, on your lonely tower,
Wish to make all men good, but want the power.
Freedom you'll have, but still will lack the thrall,--
The bond of sympathy, which binds us all.
Children and wives are hostages to fame,
But aids and helps in every useful aim.
Come Unto Me
© George MacDonald
Come unto me, the Master says:-
But how? I am not good;
No thankful song my heart will raise,
Nor even wish it could.
Heroes
© Emma Lazarus
In rich Virginian woods,
The scarlet creeper reddens over graves,
Among the solemn trees enlooped with vines;
Heroic spirits haunt the solitudes,-
The noble souls of half a million braves,
Amid the murmurous pines.
The Cathedral
© James Russell Lowell
Far through the memory shines a happy day,
Cloudless of care, down-shod to every sense,
The Saints Ascend To Heaven
© Michael Wigglesworth
The Saints behold with courage bold, and thankful wonderment.
To see all those that were their foes thus sent to punishment:
Then do they sing unto their King a Song of endless Praise:
They praise his Name, and do proclaim that just are all his ways.
Thy Will Be Done
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WE see not, know not; all our way
Is night, with Thee alone is day:
A Guiltlesse Lady Imprisoned: After Penanced. Song
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Heark, faire one, how what e're here is
Doth laugh and sing at thy distresse;
Not out of hate to thy reliefe,
But joy t' enjoy thee, though in griefe.
Seed-Time And Harvest
© John Greenleaf Whittier
As o'er his furrowed fields which lie
Beneath a coldly dropping sky,
Yet chill with winter's melted snow,
The husbandman goes forth to sow,
The Course Of Life
© Friedrich Hölderlin
You too wanted better things, but love
forces all of us down. Sorrow bends us more
forcefully, but the arc doesn't return to its
point of origin without a reason.
When Green Leaves Come again
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
WHEN green leaves come again, my love,
When green leaves come again,--
Why put on such a cloudy face,
When green leaves come again?
The Glory of the Garden
© Rudyard Kipling
Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
Elegy Written At Hotwells, Bristol
© William Lisle Bowles
The morning wakes in shadowy mantle gray,
The darksome woods their glimmering skirts unfold,
Prone from the cliff the falcon wheels her way,
And long and loud the bell's slow chime is tolled.
Trustful Ma
© Edgar Albert Guest
Ma has every confidence in Pa,
She says she knows he always does what's right,
The Old Age Of Queen Maeve
© William Butler Yeats
A certain poet in outlandish clothes
Gathered a crowd in some Byzantine lane,