Weather poems
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King David
© Stephen Vincent Benet
David sang to his hook-nosed harp:
"The Lord God is a jealous God!
His violent vengeance is swift and sharp!
And the Lord is King above all gods!
The Daisy - On Finding one in Bloom on Christmas-day
© James Montgomery
There is a flower, a little flower
With silver crest and golden eye,
That welcomes every changing hour,
And weathers every sky.
The Bushmans Lullaby
© Rolf Boldrewood
Lift me down to the creek bank, Jack,
It must be fresher outside;
The long hot day is well nigh done;
Its a chance if I see another one;
I should like to look on the setting sun,
And the water, cool and wide.
Quitting Again
© Eugene Field
The hero of
Affairs of love
By far too numerous to be mentioned,
And scarred as I'm,
It seemeth time
That I were mustered out and pensioned.
The Pilot That Weath'd The Storm
© George Canning
If hush'd the loud whirlwind that ruffled the deep,
The sky, if no longer dark tempests deform;
When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep?
No!-Here's to the Pilot who weather'd the storm!
Bullocky
© Judith Wright
Beside his heavy-shouldered team
thirsty with drought and chilled with rain,
he weathered all the striding years
till they ran widdershins in his brain:
The Gipsy's Camp
© John Clare
How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp,
My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp,
The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
© Thomas Hood
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,and with a broader sphere
The Choice of Valentines
© Thomas Nashe
Pardon sweete flower of matchless Poetrie,
And fairest bud the red rose euer bare ;
Growing Attachment
© John Kenyon
With the freshness and placid sensations of morning,
As yet all unconscious of hope or of plan,
To Anne: Oh, Say Not, Sweet Anne
© George Gordon Byron
Oh, say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed
The heart which adores you should wish to dissever;
Such Fates were to me most unkind ones indeed,
To bear me from love and from beauty for ever.
Brave Alum Bey
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Oh, big was the bosom of brave ALUM BEY,
And also the region that under it lay,
In safety and peril remarkably cool,
And he dwelt on the banks of the river Stamboul.
Out For A Walk
© Friedrich Hölderlin
The margins of the forest are beautiful,
as if painted onto the green slopes.
To The Right Hon. Mr. Dodington
© Edward Young
Balbutius, muffled in his sable cloak,
Like an old Druid from his hollow oak,
As ravens solemn, and as boding, cries,
"Ten thousand worlds for the three unities!"
Ye doctors sage, who through Parnassus teach,
Or quit the tub, or practise what you preach.
An Oriental Apologue
© James Russell Lowell
Somewhere in India, upon a time,
(Read it not Injah, or you spoil the verse,)
Supper at the Mill
© Jean Ingelow
Frances.
Well, good mother, how are you?
M. I'm hearty, lass, but warm; the weather's warm:
I think 'tis mostly warm on market-days.
I met with George behind the mill: said he,
"Mother, go in and rest a while."
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
`By thy long beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
The Garden
© James Shirley
This Garden does not take my eyes,
Though here you show how art of men
Can purchase Nature at a price
Would stock old Paradise again.
