Poem of the day
Categories
Poetry Hubs
Explore
You can also search by theme, metrics, form
and more.
Poems
Poets
Page 94 of 190
Previous
Next
Winter Magic
Winter that hath few friends yet numbers thoseOf spirit erect and delicate of eye;All may applaud sweet Summer, with her rose,And Autumn, with her banners in the sky;But when from the earth's cheek the colour goes,Her old adorers from her presence fly.So cold her bosom seems, such icy glareIs in her eyes, while on the frozen mereThe shrill ice creaks in the congealing air;Where is the lover that shall call her dear,Or the devotion that shall find her fair?The white-robed widow of the vanished year.Yet hath she loveliness and many flowers,Dreams hath she too and tender reveries,Tranced mid the rainbows of her gleaming bowers,Or the hushed temples of her pillared trees;Summer has scarce such soft and silent hours,Autumn has no s...
Richard Le Gallienne
Till To-Morrow.
Long have I longed, till I am tiredOf longing and desire;Farewell my points in vain desired,My dying fire;Farewell all things that die and fail and tire.Springtide and youth and useless pleasureAnd all my useless scheming,My hopes of unattainable treasure,Dreams not worth dreaming,Glow-worms that gleam but yield no warmth in gleaming,Farewell all shows that fade in showing:My wish and joy stand overUntil to-morrow; Heaven is glowingThrough cloudy cover,Beyond all clouds loves me my Heavenly Lover.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
The Snowdrop
Many, many welcomes,February fair-maid,Ever as of old time,Solitary firstling,Coming in the cold time,Prophet of the gay time,Prophet of the May time,Prophet of the roses,Many, many welcomes,February fair-maid!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Aspasia.
'Twas in the fair Aspasia's bower,That Love and Learning, many an hour,In dalliance met; and Learning smiledWith pleasure on the playful child,Who often stole, to find a nestWithin the folds of Learning's vest. There, as the listening statesman hungIn transport on Aspasia's tongue,The destinies of Athens tookTheir color from Aspasia's look.Oh happy time, when laws of stateWhen all that ruled the country's fate,Its glory, quiet, or alarms,Was planned between two snow-white arms! Blest times! they could not always last--And yet, even now, they are not past,Though we have lost the giant mould.In which their men were cast of old,Woman, dear woman, still the same,While beauty breathes through soul or frame,...
Thomas Moore
Love's Loadstone. First Reading.
No so s' è la desiata luce.I know not if it be the longed-for light Of her first Maker which the spirit feels; Or if a time-old memory reveals Some other beauty for the heart's delight;Or fame or dreams beget that vision bright, Sweet to the eyes, which through the bosom steals, Leaving I know not what that wounds and heals, And now perchance hath made me weep outright.Be this what this may be, 'tis this I seek: Nor guide have I; nor know I where to find That burning fire; yet some one seems to lead.This, since I saw thee, lady, makes me weak; A bitter-sweet sways here and there my mind, And sure I am thine eyes this mischief breed.
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni
Come, My Celia
Come, my Celia, let us prove,While we may, how wise is love -Love grown old and grey with years,Love whose blood is thinned with tears.Philosophic lover I,Broke my heart, its love run dry,And I warble passion's wordsBut to hear them sing like birds.When the lightning struck my side,Love shrieked and for ever died,Leaving nought of him behindBut these playthings of the mind.Now the real play is overI can only act a lover,Now the mimic play beginsWith its puppet joys and sins.When the heart no longer feels,And the blood with caution steals,Then, ah! then - my heart, forgive! -Then we dare begin to live.Dipped in Stygian waves of pain,We can never feel again;Time may hurl his...
Dreams
Away o'er the hills in the valley green Away from the noise of the busy town; I dream sweet dreams of the olden days Of you in your beautiful wedding gown. I dream that you come and sit by me And you hold my hand and ruff my hair; Your eyes shine with a sweet delight That I used to see so often there. Then my heart is filled with a hallowed love And I know t'is but a little way To the spirit land, and I know that I Shall meet you there some glad sweet day. Then our wedding day in the spirit land Will be filled with love and joy serene; And the infinite hand will guide us where The waters are still and the valleys green.
Alan L. Strang
Awr Lad.
Beautiful babby! Beautiful lad!Pride o' thi mother and joy o' thi dad!Full ov sly tricks an sweet winnin ways; -Two cherry lips whear a smile ivver plays;Two little een ov heavenly blue, -Wonderinly starin at ivverything new,Two little cheeks like leaves of a rooas, -An planted between em a wee little nooas.A chin wi' a dimple 'at tempts one to kiss; -Nivver wor bonnier babby nor this.Two little hands 'at are seldom at rest, -Except when asleep in thy snug little nest.Two little feet 'at are kickin all day,Up an daan, in an aght, like two kittens at play.Welcome as dewdrops 'at freshen the flaars,Soa has thy commin cheered this life ov awrs.What tha may come to noa mortal can tell; -We hooap an we pray 'at all may be well.We've othe...
John Hartley
Dedication
These to His Memorysince he held them dear,Perchance as finding there unconsciouslySome image of himselfI dedicate,I dedicate, I consecrate with tearsThese Idylls.And indeed He seems to meScarce other than my kings ideal knight,Who reverenced his conscience as his king;Whose glory was, redressing human wrong;Who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it;Who loved one only and who clave to herHerover all whose realms to their last isle,Commingled with the gloom of imminent war,The shadow of His loss drew like eclipse,Darkening the world. We have lost him: he is gone:We know him now: all narrow jealousiesAre silent; and we see him as he moved,How modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise,With what sublime repression of himse...
Love's Sleep.
(Vers de Société.)We'll cover Love with roses, And sweet sleep he shall take.None but a fool supposes Love always keeps awake.I've known loves without number. True loves were they, and tried;And just for want of slumber They pined away and died.Our love was bright and cheerful A little while agone;Now he is pale and tearful, And - yes, I've seen him yawn.So tired is he of kisses That he can only weep;The one dear thing he misses And longs for now is sleep.We could not let him leave us One time, he was so dear,But now it would not grieve us If he slept half a year.For he has had his season, Like the lily and the rose,And it but stands to reason
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Lass o'th Haley Hill.
O winds 'at blow, an flaars 'at grow,O sun, an stars an mooin!Aw've loved yo long, as weel yo know,An watched yo neet an nooin.But nah, yor paars to charm all flee,Altho' yor bonny still,But th' only beauty i' mi e'e,Is th' lass o'th Haley Hill.Her een's my stars, - her smile's my sun,Her cheeks are rooases bonny;Her teeth like pearls all even run,Her brow's as fair as onny.Her swan-like neck, - her snowy breast, -Her hands, soa seldom still;Awm fain to own aw love her best, -Sweet lass o'th' Haley Hill.Aw axt her i' mi kindest tone,To grant mi heart's desire;A tear upon her eyelid shone, -It set mi heart o' foir.Wi' whispers low aw told mi love,Shoo'd raised her droopin heead;Says shoo, "Awm sooa...
Confluents
As rivers seek the sea,Much more deep than they,So my soul seeks theeFar away:As running rivers moanOn their course aloneSo I moanLeft alone.As the delicate roseTo the sun's sweet strengthDoth herself unclose,Breadth and length:So spreads my heart to theeUnveiled utterly,I to theeUtterly.As morning dew exhalesSunwards pure and free,So my spirit failsAfter thee:As dew leaves not a traceOn the green earth's face;I, no traceOn thy face.Its goal the river knows,Dewdrops find a way,Sunlight cheers the roseIn her day:Shall I, lone sorrow past,Find thee at the last?Sorrow past,Thee at last?
Isabel.
They said that I was strange. I could not bearConfinement, and I lov'd to feel the windBlowing upon my forehead, and when mornCame like an inspiration from the East,And the cool earth, awaking like a starIn a new element, sent out its voice,And tempted me with music, and the breathOf a delicious perfume, and the dyeOf the rich forests and the pastures green,To come out and be glad - I would not stayTo bind my gushing spirit with a book.Fourteen bright summers - and my heart had grownImpatient in its loneliness, and yearn'dFor something that was like itself, to love.She came - the stately Isabel - as proudAnd beautiful, and gentle as my dream;And with my wealth of feeling, lov'd I her.Older by years, and wiser of the world,She ...
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Poor 'Miss 7'
Lone and alone she lies, Poor Miss 7,Five steep flights from the earth, And one from heaven;Dark hair and dark brown eyes, -Not to be sad she tries,Still - still it's lonely lies Poor Miss 7.One day-long watch hath she, Poor Miss 7,Not in some orchard sweet In April Devon -Just four blank walls to see,And dark come shadowily,No moon, no stars, ah me! Poor Miss 7.And then to wake again, Poor Miss 7,To the cold night, to have Sour physic given;Out of some dream of pain,Then strive long hours in vainDeep dreamless sleep to gain: Poor Miss 7.Yet memory softly sings Poor Miss 7Songs full of love and peace And gladness even;Clear...
Walter De La Mare
Human Feelings.
Ah, ye gods! ye great immortalsIn the spacious heavens above us!Would ye on this earth but give usSteadfast minds and dauntless courageWe, oh kindly ones, would leave youAll your spacious heavens above us!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
By A Child's Bed
She breathèd deep,And stepped from out life's streamUpon the shore of sleep;And parted from the earthly noise,Leaving her world of toys,To dwell a little in a dell of dream.Then brooding on the love I hold so free,My fond possessions come to beClouded with grief;These fairy kisses,This archness innocent,Sting me with sorrow and disturbed content:I think of what my portion might have been;A dearth of blisses,A famine of delights,If I had never had what now I value most;Till all I have seems something I have lost;A desert underneath the garden shows,And in a mound of cinders roots the rose.Here then I linger by the little bed,Till all my spirit's sphere,Grows one half brightness and the other dead,O...
Duncan Campbell Scott
To Thee, Loved Nith.
I. To thee, lov'd Nith, thy gladsome plains, Where late wi' careless thought I rang'd, Though prest wi' care and sunk in woe, To thee I bring a heart unchang'd.II. I love thee, Nith, thy banks and braes, Tho' mem'ry there my bosom tear; For there he rov'd that brake my heart, Yet to that heart, ah! still how dear!
Robert Burns
Come, my Celia, let us proveWhile we may, the sports of love;Time will not be ours forever;He at length our good will sever.Spend not then his gifts in vain.Suns that set may rise again;But if once we lose this light,Tis with us perpetual night.Why should we defer our joys?Fame and rumor are but toys.Cannot we delude the eyesOf a few poor household spies,Or his easier ears beguile,So removed by our wile?Tis no sin loves fruit to steal;But the sweet theft to reveal.To be taken, to be seen,These have crimes accounted been.
Ben Jonson