Nature poems
/ page 11 of 287 /
Like to the Clear in Highest Sphere
© Thomas Lodge
Like to the clear in highest sphereWhere all imperial glory shines,Of selfsame colour is her hair,Whether unfolded or in twines: Heigh ho, fair Rosalind
The Sleeper of the Valley
© Lewisohn Lugwig
There's a green hollow where a river singsSilvering the torn grass in its glittering flight,And where the sun from the proud mountain flingsFire and the little valley brims with light.
Man and Bat
© David Herbert Lawrence
When I went into my room, at mid-morning,Say ten o'clock ...My room, a crash-box over that great stone rattleThe Via de' Bardi ....
Endymion
© John Keats
BOOK IIts loveliness increases; it will neverPass into nothingness; but still will keepA bower quiet for us, and a sleepFull of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing
Yozgad IV: How like an ocean is existence here
© Julius Stanley de Vere Alexander
Yozgad is situated in a remote and high valley of the Anatolian tableland
The Honest Working Man
© Joussaye Marie
As through the world we take our way How oftentimes we hearThe praises sung of wealthy men, Of prince, and duke and peer
Epigrams: An Epitaph on S.P.
© Benjamin Jonson
Weep with me, all you that read This little story:And know, for whom a tear you shed Death's self is sorry
London: A Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal
© Samuel Johnson
Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel,
Drury-lane Prologue Spoken by Mr. Garrick at the Opening of the Theatre in Drury-Lane, 1747
© Samuel Johnson
When Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foesFirst rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespear rose;Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new:Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,And panting Time toil'd after him in vain:His pow'rful strokes presiding Truth impress'd,And unresisted Passion storm'd the breast
Flint and Feather
© Emily Pauline Johnson
Ojistoh1.2Of him whose name breathes bravery and life1.3And courage to the tribe that calls him chief.1.4I am Ojistoh, his white star, and he1.5Is land, and lake, and sky--and soul to me.
The King's Quire
© James I of Scotland
Bewailing in my chamber thus allone, Despeired of all joye and remedye,For-tirit of my thoght, and wo begone, Unto the wyndow gan I walk in hye, To se the warld and folk that went forby;As for the tyme, though I of mirthis fudeMyght have no more, to luke it did me gude
Pasteurs et Troupeaux
© Victor Marie Hugo
Le vallon où je vais tous les jours est charmant,Serein, abandonné, seul sous-le firmament,Plein de ronces en fleurs; c'est un sourire triste
That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows
flaunt forth, then chevy on an air-Built thoroughfare: heaven-roysterers, in gay-gangs
they throng; they glitter in marches.Down roughcast, down dazzling whitewash,
wherever an elm arches,Shivelights and shadowtackle ín long
The Distance of the Dead
© Charles Harpur
How distant in a moment are the dead! Round Mamre's Cave, four thousand years ago,A long procession up from Egypt led, Closed mourning, like a sable cloud of woe
