Nature poems

 / page 279 of 287 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Hymn 104

© Isaac Watts

Not the malicious or profane,
The wanton or the proud,
Nor thieves, nor sland'rers, shall obtain
Tue kingdom of our God.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Hymn 1

© Isaac Watts

Behold the glories of the Lamb
Amidst his Father's throne;
Prepare new honors for his name,
And songs before unknown.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Against Quarreling and Fighting

© Isaac Watts

Let dogs delight to bark and bite,
For God hath made them so:
Let bears and lions growl and fight,
For 'tis their nature, too.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

On Going Back To The Street After Viewing An Art Show

© Charles Bukowski

they talk down through
the centuries to us,
and this we need more and more,
the statues and paintings

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Most Beautiful Woman In Town

© Charles Bukowski

Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sorrow of Departure

© Li Ching Chao

Red lotus incense fades on
The jeweled curtain. Autumn
Comes again. Gently I open
My silk dress and float alone

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Day Of Doom

© Michael Wigglesworth

Still was the night, Serene & Bright,
when all Men sleeping lay;
Calm was the season, & carnal reason
thought so 'twould last for ay.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Blue Swallows

© Howard Nemerov

Across the millstream below the bridge
Seven blue swallows divide the air
In shapes invisible and evanescent,
Kaleidoscopic beyond the mind’s
Or memory’s power to keep them there.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Learning the Trees

© Howard Nemerov

Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn
The language of the trees. That's done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of it
Is one of the transformations of a tree.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Walking the Dog

© Howard Nemerov

Two universes mosey down the street
Connected by love and a leash and nothing else.
Mostly I look at lamplight through the leaves
While he mooches along with tail up and snout down,
Getting a secret knowledge through the nose
Almost entirely hidden from my sight.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Dream On

© Edward Taylor

Some people go their whole lives
without ever writing a single poem.
Extraordinary people who don't hesitate
to cut somebody's heart or skull open.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Upon A Wasp Chilled With Cold

© Edward Taylor

The bear that breathes the northern blast
Did numb, torpedo-like, a wasp
Whose stiffened limbs encramped, lay bathing
In Sol's warm breath and shine as saving,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Warden of the Cinque Ports

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A mist was driving down the British Channel,
The day was just begun,
And through the window-panes, on floor and panel,
Streamed the red autumn sun.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Hiawatha's Friends

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Two good friends had Hiawatha,
Singled out from all the others,
Bound to him in closest union,
And to whom he gave the right hand

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Peace-Pipe

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

On the Mountains of the Prairie,
On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,
Gitche Manito, the mighty,
He the Master of Life, descending,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Morituri Salutamus: Poem for the Fiftieth Anniversary

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Phantoms of fame, like exhalations, rose
And vanished,--we who are about to die,
Salute you; earth and air and sea and sky,
And the Imperial Sun that scatters down
His sovereign splendors upon grove and town.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Introduction To The Song Of Hiawatha

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Should you ask me,
whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Voices Of the Night

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Pleasant it was, when woods were green,
And winds were soft and low,
To lie amid some sylvan scene,
Where, the long drooping boughs between
Shadows dark and sunlight sheen
Alternate come and go;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Nature

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

As a fond mother, when the day is o'er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Arsenal At Springfield

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling,
Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms;
But front their silent pipes no anthem pealing
Startles the villages with strange alarms.