All Poems
/ page 2449 of 3210 /
Youth
© Francis Ledwidge
She paved the way with perfume sweet
Of flowers that moved like winds alight,
And never weary grew my feet
Wandering through[the spring's delight.
Laughing Rose
© William Henry Davies
If I were gusty April now,
How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
And all her hair come loose.
Book Of Contemplation - Five Things
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHAT makes time short to me?
Activity!
Joy and Pleasure
© William Henry Davies
Now, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.
The Noble Moringer
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
O, will you hear a knightly tale of old Bohemian day,
It was the noble Moringer in wedlock bed he lay;
He halsed and kiss'd his dearest dame, that was as sweet as May,
And said, "Now, lady of my heart, attend the words I say.
In the Country
© William Henry Davies
This life is sweetest; in this wood
I hear no children cry for food;
I see no woman, white with care;
No man, with muscled wasting here.
For The Wine Of Circle By Edward Burne Jones
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
DUSK-HAIRED and gold-robed o'er the golden wine
She stoops, wherein, distilled of death and shame,
To Dora
© William Wordsworth
"'A little onward lend thy guiding hand
To these dark steps, a little further on!'"
--What trick of memory to 'my' voice hath brought
This mournful iteration? For though Time,
In May
© William Henry Davies
Yes, I will spend the livelong day
With Nature in this month of May;
And sit beneath the trees, and share
My bread with birds whose homes are there;
Marion
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
URCHIN of the Syrian face,
And half melancholy grace,
With a look in your dark eyes,
Sometimes deep and overwise;
Days Too Short
© William Henry Davies
When primroses are out in Spring,
And small, blue violets come between;
When merry birds sing on boughs green,
And rills, as soon as born, must sing;
Come, Let Us Find
© William Henry Davies
Come, let us find a cottage, love,
That's green for half a mile around;
To laugh at every grumbling bee,
Whose sweetest blossom's not yet found.
All in June
© William Henry Davies
A week ago I had a fire
To warm my feet, my hands and face;
Cold winds, that never make a friend,
Crept in and out of every place.
In Spain
© Emily Lawless
YOUR sky is a hard and a dazzling blue,
Your earth and sands are a dazzling gold,
Charms
© William Henry Davies
The brook laughs not more sweet, when he
Trips over pebbles suddenly.
My Love, like him, can whisper low --
When he comes where green cresses grow.
Historiens Sang
© Jeppe Aakjaer
Som dybest Brønd gir altid klarest Vand,
og lifligst Drik fra dunkle Væld udrinder,
April's Charms
© William Henry Davies
When April scatters charms of primrose gold
Among the copper leaves in thickets old,
And singing skylarks from the meadows rise,
To twinkle like black stars in sunny skies;
The Seven Old Men
© Charles Baudelaire
À Victor Hugo
Ant-like city, city full of dreams,
where the passer-by, at dawn, meets the spectre!
Mysteries everywhere are the sap that streams
Ale
© William Henry Davies
Now do I hear thee weep and groan,
Who hath a comrade sunk at sea?
Then quaff thee of my good old ale,
And it will raise him up for thee;
Thoul't think as little of him then
As when he moved with living men.
