Nature poems
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First Love
© Shimazaki Toson
you had swept back your bangs for the first time
when I saw you under the apple tree
the flower-comb in your hair
I thought you yourself were a flower too.
Written Upon A Blank Leaf In "The Complete Angler."
© William Wordsworth
WHILE flowing rivers yield a blameless sport,
Shall live the name of Walton: Sage benign!
Recollections Of A Faded Beauty
© Caroline Norton
There was a certain Irishman, indeed,
Who borrowed Cupid's darts to make me bleed.
My aunt said he was vulgar; he was poor,
And his boots creaked, and dirtied her smooth floor.
She hated him; and when he went away,
He wrote--I have the verses to this day:--
Fragment Of A Meditation
© Allen Tate
In the beginning the irresponsible Verb
Connived with chaos whence I've seen it start
Riddles in the head for the nervous heart
To count its beat on: all beginnings run
Like water the easiest way or like birds
Fly on their cool imponderable flood.
Economy, A Rhapsody, Addressed to Young Poets
© William Shenstone
Insanis; omnes gelidis quaecunqne lacernis
Sunt tibi, Nasones Virgiliosque vides. ~Mart.
Imitation.
--Thou know'st not what thou say'st;
In garments that scarce fence them from the cold
Our Ovids and our Virgils you behold.
Epilogue To The Breakfast-Table Series
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AUTOCRAT-PROFESSOR-POET
AT A BOOKSTORE
Ode XII: On Recovering From A Fit Of Sickness, In the Country
© Mark Akenside
I.
Thy verdant scenes, O Goulder's hill,
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Dialogue II.
© John Kenyon
A.
By no faint shame withheld from general gaze,
'Tis thus, my friend, we bask us in the blaze;
Where deeds, more surface-smooth than inly bright,
Snatch up a transient lustre from the light.
Written Out [1]
© Henry Lawson
Sing the song of the reckless, who care not what they do;
Sing the song of a sinner and the song of a writer, too
Down in a pub in the alleys, in a dark and dirty hole,
With every soul a drunkard and the boss with never a soul.
The Country Retreat
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
OH lone and lovely solitude,
Washed by the sounding sea;
Nature was in a poet's mood,
When she created thee.
To A February Primrose
© George MacDonald
I have no words. But fragrant is the breath,
Pale beauty, of thy second life within.
There is a wind that cometh for thy death,
But thou a life immortal dost begin,
Where in one soul, which is thy heaven, shall dwell
Thy spirit, beautiful Unspeakable!
Pharsalia - Book II: The Flight Of Pompeius
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
This was made plain the anger of the gods;
The universe gave signs Nature reversed
In monstrous tumult fraught with prodigies
Her laws, and prescient spake the coming guilt.
In memory Of George Calderon
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Wisdom and Valour, Faith,
Justice,--the lofty names
Of virtue's quest and prize,--
What is each but a cold wraith
Until it lives in a man
And looks thro' a man's eyes?
Toward the Close
© Robert Crawford
Time grows upon us until we exhaust
Hope's possibilities, and then we die
On Leaving Bath.
© Mary Barber
The Britons, in their Nature shy,
View Strangers with a distant Eye:
We think them partial and severe;
And judge their Manners by their Air:
Are undeceiv'd by Time alone;
Their Value rises, as they're known.
Hymn IX. Where high the heavenly temple stands
© John Logan
Where high the heavenly temple stands,
The house of God not made with hands,
A great High Priest our nature wears,
The Patron of mankind appears.
Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. - Canto I.
© Matthew Prior
Without these aids, to be more serious,
Her power they hold had been precarious;
The eyes might have conspired her ruin,
And she not known what they were doing.
Foolish it had been and unkind
That they should see and she be blind.
On the Grasshopper (From The Greek)
© William Cowper
Happy songster, perch'd above,
On the summit of the grove,
October
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
October is the treasurer of the year,
And all the months pay bounty to her store;
