All Poems
/ page 2428 of 3210 /Sonnet to Evening
© Mary Darby Robinson
SWEET BALMY HOUR! dear to the pensive mind,
Oft have I watch'd thy dark and weeping shade,
Oft have I hail'd thee in the dewy glade,
And drop'd a tear of SYMPATHY refin'd.
Ode To Sleep
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
With a gray fleetness, moaning the dead day;
The wings of Silence overfolding space,
Droop with dusk grandeur from the heavenly steep,
And through the stillness gleams thy starry face,
Serenest Angel--Sleep!
Sonnet to Amicus
© Mary Darby Robinson
WHOE'ER thou art, whose soul-enchanting song
Steals on the sullen ear of pensive woe;
To whom the sounds of melody belong,
Sounds, that can more than human bliss bestow;
Sonnet IX: Ye, Who in Alleys Green
© Mary Darby Robinson
Ye, who in alleys green and leafy bow'rs,
Sport, the rude children of fantastic birth;
Where frolic nymphs, and shaggy tribes of mirth,
In clam'rous revels waste the midnight hours;
The Star
© Edith Nesbit
I said, "Now my brows are laurelled, my hands filled full of their gold,
I will sing the starry songs that these earthworms bade withhold.
It is time to sing of my star!" for I dreamed that my star still shone,
Then I lifted my eyes in my triumph. Night! night! and my star was gone.
Sonnet IV: Why, When I Gaze
© Mary Darby Robinson
Why, when I gaze on Phaon's beauteous eyes,
Why does each thought in wild disorder stray?
Why does each fainting faculty decay,
And my chill'd breast in throbbing tumults rise?
To The Proof Room
© Bert Leston Taylor
"O MEN of dark and dismal fate,"
A prey to typographic terrors,
O you who labor long and late,
Correcting other people's errors --
Think not I do not realize
How much I owe your Argus-eyes.
Sonnet III: Turn to Yon Vale Beneath
© Mary Darby Robinson
Turn to yon vale beneath, whose tangled shade
Excludes the blazing torch of noon-day light,
Where sportive Fawns, and dimpled Loves invite,
The bow'r of Pleasure opens to the glade:
A Passing Hail
© James Whitcomb Riley
Let us rest ourselves a bit!
Worry?- wave your hand to it -
Kiss your finger-tips and smile
It farewell a little while.
Sonnet II: High on a Rock
© Mary Darby Robinson
High on a rock, coaeval with the skies,
A Temple stands, rear'd by immortal pow'rs
To Chastity divine! ambrosial flow'rs
Twining round icicles, in columns rise,
The Church of Unbent Knees
© Christopher Morley
AS I went by the church to-day
I heard the organ cry;
And goodly folk were on their knees,
But I went striding by.
Sonnet I: Favour'd by Heav'n
© Mary Darby Robinson
Favour'd by Heav'n are those, ordain'd to taste
The bliss supreme that kindles fancy's fire;
Whose magic fingers sweep the muses' lyre,
In varying cadence, eloquently chaste!
Conscience
© Robert Southwell
My conscience is my crown;
Contented thoughts my rest;
My heart is happy in itself;
My bliss is in my breast.
Second Ode to the Nightingale
© Mary Darby Robinson
BLEST be thy song, sweet NIGHTINGALE,
Lorn minstrel of the lonely vale !
Where oft I've heard thy dulcet strain
In mournful melody complain;
Blackmwore Maidens
© William Barnes
THE PRIMRWOSE in the shade do blow,
The cowslip in the zun,
The thyme upon the down do grow,
The clote where streams do run;
Rinaldo to Laura Maria
© Mary Darby Robinson
There tell me I am most despis'd,
E'en by thyself, whom most I priz'd,
So shall I gladly welcome fate,
And perish in thy perfect hate:
So shall I better bear th' eternal pain,
Never to see thy Form, or hear thy Voice again.
Brother Benedict
© Alfred Austin
Brother Benedict rose and left his cell
With the last slow swing of the evening bell.
Poor Marguerite
© Mary Darby Robinson
She felt the wintry blast of night,
And smil'd to see the morning light,
For then she cried, "I soon shall meet
"The plighted love of MARGUERITE."
Pastoral Stanzas
© Mary Darby Robinson
WHEN AURORA'S soft blushes o'erspread the blue hill,
And the mist dies away at the glances of morn;
When the birds join the music that floats on the rill,
And the beauties of spring the young woodlands adorn.
Wha Is That At My Bower-Door
© Robert Burns
"Wha is that at my bower-door?"
"O wha is it but Findlay!"