Morning poems

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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Sicilian's Tale; The Monk of Casal-Maggiore

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Once on a time, some centuries ago,

In the hot sunshine two Franciscan friars

True Love

© Judith Viorst

It is true love because

I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day

A' Old Played-Out Song

© James Whitcomb Riley

It's the curiousest thing in creation,

Whenever I hear that old song,

We see—Comparatively

© Emily Dickinson

We see-Comparatively-
The Thing so towering high
We could not grasp its segment
Unaided-Yesterday-

Generous, and ardent, and as romantic as he could be,
Montorio was in his earliest youth, when, on a summer-
evening, not many years ago, he arrived at the Baths of
* * *. With a heavy heart, and with many a blessing on

The Blue Flannel Shirt

© Edgar Albert Guest

I am eager once more to feel easy,

I'm weary of thinking of dress;

The Birth Of Spring

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

O Kathleen, my darling, I've dreamt such a dream,

'Tis as hopeful and bright as the summer's first beam:

Fairies

© Francis Ledwidge

Maiden-poet, come with me
To the heaped up cairn of Maeve,
And there we'll dance a fairy dance
Upon a fairy's grave.

The Last Portage

© William Henry Drummond

I'm sleepin' las' night w'en I dream a dream
An' a wonderful wan it seem--
For Im off on de road I was never see,
Too long an' hard for a man lak me,
So ole he can only wait de call
Is sooner or later come to all.

Viva Perpetua

© Archibald Lampman

The night is passing. In a few short hours
I too shall suffer for the name of Christ.
A boundless exaltation lifts my soul!
I know that they who left us, Saturus,
Perpetua, and the other blessed ones,
Await me at the opening gates of heaven.

The Missionary - Canto Fifth

© William Lisle Bowles

Three years have passed since a fond husband left
Me and this infant, of his love bereft;
Him I have followed; need I tell thee more,
Cast helpless, friendless, hopeless, on this shore.

The Ghost-Seer

© James Russell Lowell

Ye who, passing graves by night,

Glance not to the left or right,

Sonnett - XIX

THE SAME CONCLUDED

Far 'yond this narrow parapet of Time,

The Ballad Of The New Arrival

Prince, at your pleasures I sneeze,
You to riches and glory may bow,
But my joy is greater than these,
There's another to welcome me now.

Christ at Carnival

Then I heard human accents answering:
"I am a god, made god by all thy prayers;
Wach stone becomes a god by worshipping;
I am a man who loves thee: in thy town
Many have loved thee, I am one of these."

A Poem On The Last Day - Book II

© Edward Young

Now man awakes, and from his silent bed,
Where he has slept for ages, lifts his head;
Shakes off the slumber of ten thousand years,
And on the borders of new worlds appears.
Whate'er the bold, the rash adventure cost,
In wide Eternity I dare be lost.