Happy poems
/ page 16 of 254 /
To My Dog,"Quien Sabe"
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
(In the Happy Hunting Grounds)
Did the phantom hills seem strange, Quien,
When you left the light for the ghostly land?
Do you dream of the open range, Quien,
The tang of sage and the sun-warmed sand?
The Ring And The Book - Chapter IX - Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius
© Robert Browning
Thus
Would I defend the step,were the thing true
Which is a fable,see my former speech,
That Guido slept (who never slept a wink)
Through treachery, an opiate from his wife,
Who not so much as knew what opiates mean.
A Song Of Parting
© Edith Nesbit
QUEEN of my Life, who gave me for my song
The richest crown a poet ever wore,
Since I have given you songs a whole year long,
Stoop, of your grace, and take this one song more.
Metamorphoses: Book The First
© Ovid
OF bodies chang'd to various forms, I sing:
Ye Gods, from whom these miracles did spring,
Inspire my numbers with coelestial heat;
'Till I my long laborious work compleat:
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 8
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Turnus had assembled all his powrs,
His standard planted on Laurentums towrs;
Thebais - Book One - part V
© Pablius Papinius Statius
The king once more the solemn rites requires,
And bids renew the feasts, and wake the fires.
A Tragi-Comedy
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
'Twas on a gloomy afternoon
When all the world was out of tune,
The Brook Leaps Riotous
© Augusta Davies Webster
And love, whatever love, sure, makes small boast:
'Tis the new lovers tell, in wonder yet.
Oh happy need! Enriched stream's jubilant gush!
But who being spouses well have learned love's most,
Being child and mother learned not nor forget,
These in their joyfulness feel the tarn's strong hush.
Metamorphoses: Book The Twelfth
© Ovid
The End of the Twelfth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Wold Friends A-Met
© William Barnes
Aye, vull my heart's blood now do roll,
An' gaÿ do rise my happy soul,
This Evenings Light Is Golden Bright
© Anna Akhmatova
This evening's light is golden bright,
The Aprils coolness is so tender,
Though you are many years too late,
I still do welcome you to enter.
Sappho to Phaon (Ovid Heroid XV)
© Alexander Pope
Say, lovely youth, that dost my heart command,
Can Phaon's eyes forget his Sappho's hand?
Finery
© Ann Taylor
IN an elegant frock, trimm'd with beautiful lace,
And hair nicely curl'd, hanging over her face,
Young Fanny went out to the house of a friend,
With a large little party the evening to spend.
After Her Going
© Francis Thompson
The after-even! Ah, did I walk,
Indeed, in her or even?
For nothing of me or around
But absent She did leaven,
Felt in my body as its soul,
And in my soul its heaven.
Tied Down
© Edgar Albert Guest
"They tie you down," a woman said,
Whose cheeks should have been flaming red
Punishment
© Edgar Albert Guest
Their childhood is so brief that we
Should hesitate to spoil their fun,
Tale IX
© George Crabbe
course,"
Replied the Youth; "but has it power to force?
Unless it forces, call it as you will,
It is but wish, and proneness to the ill."
"Art thou not tempted?"--"Do I fall?" said
To My Father (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Oh that Pieria's spring would thro' my breast
Pour its inspiring influence, and rush
