The Bubble

See the pretty planet!
Floating sphere!
Faintest breeze will fan it
Far or near;

World as light as feather;
Moonshine rays,
Rainbow tints together,
As it plays.

Drooping, sinking, failing,
Nigh to earth,
Mounting, whirling, sailing,
Full of mirth;

Life there, welling, flowing,
Waving round;
Pictures coming, going,
Without sound.

Quick now, be this airy
Globe repelled!
Never can the fairy
Star be held.

Touched, it in a twinkle
Disappears!
Leaving but a sprinkle,
As of tears.

William Allingham

William Allingham was an Irish poet, diarist, and editor, born on March 19, 1824, and died on November 18, 1889. He is best known for his Diary, published posthumously and documenting his interactions with other notable Victorian writers. Allingham's poetry often reflected his Irish heritage and rural upbringing, with famous works such as "The Fairies" which influenced later writers. He served as the sub-editor of Fraser's Magazine and was well-regarded in literary circles for his contributions to poetry and literature.

William Allingham

The Maids Of Elfin-Mere

William Allingham, Simple Poetry

Writing

William Allingham, Simple Poetry

Half-Waking

William Allingham, Simple Poetry

Down On The Shore

William Allingham, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

An Incantation. Sung By The Bubble Spirit.

Air.--Come with me, and we will go
                Where the rocks of coral grow.


Come with me and we will blow
Lots of bubbles as we go;
Bubbles bright as ever Hope
Drew from fancy--or from soap;
Bright as e'er the South Sea sent
From its frothy element!
Come with me and we will blow
Lots of bubbles as we go.
Mix the lather, Johnny Wilks,
Thou, who rhym'st so well to bilks;^[1]
Mix the lather--who can be
Fitter for such tasks than thee,
Great M. P. for Sudsbury!

Now the frothy charm is ripe,
Puffing Peter,^[2] bring thy pipe,--
Thou whom ancient Coventry
Once so dearly loved that she
Knew not which to her was sweeter,
Peeping Tom or Puffing Peter;--
Puff the bubbles high in air,

Thomas Moore

Soap-Bubbles.

"O George! how large your bubble is!
    Its colors, too, how bright!
Just like the rainbow that we saw
    On high, the other night.

"Now throw it off, and let it float
    Like fairies in the air!
It's broken, Georgie; never mind,
    But blow another there."

Their mother, just within the door,
    Smiled at their childish play,--
A smile, but yet a thoughtful one,
    That seemed these words to say:

"My little Georgie, bubbles burst,
    And are but empty air;
I would that you might love the things
    That last forever fair.

"And ever may my darling Kate
    A trusting spirit bear,
And, when one cherished hope has fled,
    Yet find another there."

H. P. Nichols

Bubbles

As I went through the wood, the wood,
Through fern and pimpernel,
A water fell, a water stood,
Twinkling within a dell,
And Naiad fancies, gleaming, hung
Like bubbles there the moss among.

And as I sat beside the fall
And watched a rainbow beam,
There rose a dream, a spirit tall,
Out of the woodland stream:
Bright, prismed bubbles in her hair,
She rose and smiled upon me there.

But as I gazed at her and gazed,
Dim bubbles grew her eyes;
And frail of dyes her body raised,
And'vanished in the skies:
And with the spirit went my dream
A rainbow bubble of the stream.

Madison Julius Cawein

The Queen of Bubbles

[Written for a picture]


    The Youth speaks: -
    "Why do you seek the sun
    In your bubble-crown ascending?
    Your chariot will melt to mist.
    Your crown will have an ending."

    The Goddess replies: -
    "Nay, sun is but a bubble,
    Earth is a whiff of foam -
    To my caves on the coast of Thule
    Each night I call them home.
    Thence Faiths blow forth to angels
    And loves blow forth to men -
    They break and turn to nothing
    And I make them whole again.
    On the crested waves of chaos
    I ride them back reborn:
    New stars I bring at evening
    For those that burst at morn:
    My soul is the wind of Thule
    And evening is the sign -
    The sun is but a bubble,
    A fragile...

Vachel Lindsay

Floating Island

Harmonious Powers with Nature work
On sky, earth, river, lake and sea;
Sunshine and cloud, whirlwind and breeze,
All in one duteous task agree.

Once did I see a slip of earth
(By throbbing waves long undermined)
Loosed from its hold; how, no one knew,
But all might see it float, obedient to the wind;

Might see it, from the mossy shore
Dissevered, float upon the Lake,
Float with its crest of trees adorned
On which the warbling birds their pastime take.

Food, shelter, safety, there they find;
There berries ripen, flowerets bloom;
There insects live their lives, and die;
A peopled world it is; in size a tiny room.

And thus through many seasons' space
This little Island may survive;
But Nature, though we mark her not,
Will ta...

William Wordsworth

The Bubble Chase.

Twas morn, and, wending on its way,
Beside my path a stream was playing;
And down its banks, in humor gay,
A thoughtless boy was idly straying.

Light as the breeze they onward flew
That joyous youth and laughing tide,
And seemed each other's course to woo,
For long they bounded side by side.

And now the dimpling water staid,
And glassed its ripples in a nook;
And on its breast a bubble played,
Which won the boy's admiring look.

He bent him o'er the river's brim,
And on the radiant vision gazed;
For lovelier still it seemed to him,
That in its breast his imaged blazed.

With beating heart and trembling finger,
He stooped the wondrous gem to clasp,
But, spellbound, seemed a while to linger,
Ere yet he made th' adventurous gr...

Samuel Griswold Goodrich