Poetry
General Books
Sort by:
1. HAWTHORN AND LAVENDER ENVOY My songs were once of the sunrise: They shouted it over the bar; First-footing the dawns, they flourished, And flamed with the morning star. My songs are now of the sunset: Their brows are touched with light, But their feet are lost in the shadows And wet with the dews of night. Yet for the joy in their making Take them, O fond and true, And for...
more...
by:
Various
The Night Before Christmas. 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In the hope that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled...
more...
A Dream.I stood far off above the haunts of menSomewhere, I know not, when the sky was dimFrom some worn glory, and the morning hymnOf the gay oriole echoed from the glen.Wandering, I felt earth's peace, nor knew I soughtA visioned face, a voice the wind had caught.I passed the waking things that stirred and gazed,Thought-bound, and heeded not; the waking flowersDrank in the morning mist,...
more...
INVOCATION. Thou with the dark blue eye upturned to heaven,And cheek now pale, now warm with radiant glow, Daughter of God,—most dear,— Come with thy quivering tear,And tresses wild, and robes of loosened flow,—To thy lone votaress let one look be given! Come Poesy! nor like some just-formed maid,With heart as yet unswoln by bliss or...
more...
by:
Henry Van Dyke
THE AFTER-ECHO How long the echoes love to play Around the shore of silence, as a wave Retreating circles down the sand! One after one, with sweet delay,The mellow sounds that cliff and island gave, Have lingered in the crescent bay, Until, by lightest breezes fanned,They float far off beyond the dying day And leave it still as death. But...
more...
by:
Jan Kochanowski
LAMENT I Come, Heraclitus and Simonides,Come with your weeping and sad elegies:Ye griefs and sorrows, come from all the landsWherein ye sigh and wail and wring your hands:Gather ye here within my house todayAnd help me mourn my sweet, whom in her MayUngodly Death hath ta'en to his estate,Leaving me on a sudden desolate.'Tis so a serpent glides on some shy nestAnd, of the tiny nightingales...
more...
by:
Beatrix Potter
Though flattered by imitators galore Miss Potter's work stands supreme. Her many picture stories should be among the first books owned by children. Cecily Parsley lived in a pen,And brewed good ale for gentlemen; Gentlemen came every day,Till Cecily Parsley ran away. Goosey, goosey, gander,Whither will you wander?Upstairs and downstairs,And in my lady's chamber! This pig went to market;This...
more...
by:
James Thomson
PROEM Lo, thus, as prostrate, "In the dust I writeMy heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears."Yet why evoke the spectres of black nightTo blot the sunshine of exultant years?Why disinter dead faith from mouldering hidden? 5Why break the seals of mute despair unbidden,And wail life's discords into careless ears? Because a cold rage seizes one at whilesTo show the bitter old...
more...
RHYMES OF A ROLLING STONE Prelude I sing no idle songs of dalliance days,No dreams Elysian inspire my rhyming;I have no Celia to enchant my lays,No pipes of Pan have set my heart to chiming.I am no wordsmith dripping gems divineInto the golden chalice of a sonnet;If love songs witch you, close this book of mine,Waste no time on it. Yet bring I to my work an eager joy,A lusty love of life and all things...
more...
by:
Eric Mackay
i.Othou refulgent essence of all grace!O thou that with the witchery of thy faceHast made of me thy servant unto death,I pray thee pause, ere, musical of breath,And rapt of utterance, thou condemn indeedMy venturous wooing, and the wanton speedWith which I greet thee, dear and tender soul!From out the fullness of my passion-creed. ii. Iam so truly thine that nevermoreShall man be found, this side the...
more...