Weather poems
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Mind your Knitting
© Linton William James
Lucy! mind your knitting: Blind as I may be,I am certain you're not sitting At your work by me
Les Roses de Sâdi
© Andrew Lang
This morning I vowed I would bring thee my roses,They were thrust in the band that my bodice encloses;But the breast-knots were broken, the roses went free.
To a Kaffir Baby
© King Edith L. M.
Kaffir baby, Kaffir baby, Going to the kraal,Are you really comfortable Hanging in your shrawl?
The Wreck of the Deutschland (Dec. 6, 7, 1875)
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
[[A-text]]to the happy memory of five Francisan nuns,exiles by the Falck Laws, drowned betweenmidnight & morning of December 7 [[1875]].
"My Friends"
© Charles Harpur
'Tis a very sad thing to be true,That so soon as our years are not very few,We cannot say simply -- "My Friends," even whileThe cheek may be decked in a fair-weather smile,And be, at the same time, exemptFrom a twinge of contempt
Into Battle
© Grenfell Julian
The naked earth is warm with Spring,And with green grass and bursting treesLeans to the sun's gaze glorying,And quivers in the sunny breeze;And life is Colour and Warmth and Light,And a striving evermore for these;And he is dead who will not fight,And who dies fighting has increase
The Flying Fish
© Gray John Henry
Magnae Deus potentiaequi fertili natos aquapartim relinquis gurgitipartim levas in aera.
Ode to the Cambro-Britons and their Harp, His Ballad of Agincourt
© Michael Drayton
Fair stood the wind for France,When we our sails advance;Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry;But putting to the main,At Caux, the mouth of Seine,With all his martial train Landed King Harry.
His Picture
© John Donne
Here take my picture ; though I bid farewell,Thine, in my heart, where my soul dwells, shall dwell
A Capital Ship for an Ocean Trip
© Charles Edward Carryl
A capital ship for an ocean trip Was "The Walloping Window-blind;"No gale that blew dismayed her crew Or troubled the captain's mind
We sat entwined an hour or two together
© Christopher John Brennan
We sat entwined an hour or two together(how long I know not) underneath pine-treesthat rustled ever in the soft spring weatherstirr'd by the sole suggestion of the breeze:
A Vision out West
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Far reaching down's a solid sea sunk everlastingly to rest,And yet whose billows seem to be for ever heaving toward the westThe tiny fieldmice make their nests, the summer insects buzz and humAmong the hollows and the crests of this wide ocean stricken dumb,Whose rollers move for ever on, though sullenly, with fettered wills,To break in voiceless wrath upon the crumbled bases of far hills,Where rugged outposts meet the shock, stand fast, and hurl them back again,An avalanche of earth and rock, in tumbled fragments on the plain;But, never heeding the rebuff, to right and left they kiss the feetOf hanging cliff and bouldered bluff till on the farther side they meet,And once again resume their march to where the afternoon sun dipsToward the west, and Heaven's arch salutes the Earth with ruddy lips
A Song from a Sandhill
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Drip, drip, drip! It tinkles on the fly--The pitiless outpouring of an overburdened sky:Each drooping frond of pine has got a jewel at its tip--First a twinkle, then a sprinkle, and a drip, drip, drip
Written for my Son, and Spoken by Him at his First Putting on Breeches
© Mary Barber
WHAT is it our mamma's bewitches,To plague us little boys with breeches ?To tyrant Custom we must yield,Whilst vanquish'd Reason flies the field
A Sonnet upon the Pitiful Burning of the Globe Playhouse in London
© Anonymous
Now sitt thee downe, Melpomene,Wrapt in a sea-coal robe,And tell the dolefull tragedie,That late was playd at Globe;For noe man that can singe and sayeBut was scard on St
