Smile poems
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Halme Der Nacht
© Paul Celan
She combs her hair, like the dead are combed,
She carries the blue fragments under her robe.
Epistle (Upon his arrival at his estate in Geneva)
© Voltaire
Now hostile Crowds Geneva's Tow'rs assail,
They march in secret, and by Night they scale;
The Goddess comes--they vanish from the Wall,
Their Launces shiver, and their Heros fall,
For Fraud can ne'er elude, nor Force withstand
The Stroke of Liberty's victorious Hand.
The Truant Dove, From Pilpay
© Charlotte Turner Smith
A MOUNTAIN stream, its channel deep
Beneath a rock's rough base had torn;
Mothers' Splendid Dreams
© Edgar Albert Guest
Mothers dream such splendid dreams when their little babies smile,
Dreams of wondrous deeds they'll do in the happy after- while;
Every mother of a boy knows that in her arms is curled
One who some day will arise splendidly to serve the world.
September, 1819
© William Wordsworth
Nor doth the example fail to cheer
Me, conscious that my leaf is sere,
And yellow on the bough:-
Fall, rosy garlands, from my head!
Ye myrtle wreaths, your fragrance shed
Around a younger brow!
The Columbiad: Book IX
© Joel Barlow
Shrouded in deeper darkness now he veers
The vast gyration of a thousand years,
Strikes out each lamp that would illume his way,
Disputes his food with every beast of prey;
Imbands his force to fence his trist abodes,
A wretched robber with his feudal codes.
Hope, An Allegorical Sketch
© William Lisle Bowles
I am the comforter of them that mourn;
My scenes well shadowed, and my carol sweet,
Italy : 5. The Descent
© Samuel Rogers
My mule refreshed -- and, let the truth be told,
He was nor dull nor contradictory,
But patient, diligent, and sure of foot,
Shunning the loose stone on the precipice,
The Cost Of Praise
© Edgar Albert Guest
THIS morning came a man to me, his smile was wonderful to see,
He shook my hand and doffed his hat then promptly took a chair;
Song of Nature
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gulf of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.
Hymn XIII: Happy Soul that Free from Harms
© Charles Wesley
Live, till all thy life I know,
Perfect through my Lord below,
Gladly then from earth remove,
Gathered to the fold above.
Stillborn
© Sylvia Plath
These poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis.
They grew their toes and fingers well enough,
Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.
If they missed out on walking about like people
It wasn't for any lack of mother-love.
Gitanjali
© Rabindranath Tagore
1.
Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
Things
© Aline Murray Kilmer
SOMETIMES when I am at tea with you
I catch my breath
At a thought that is old as the world is old
And more bitter than death.
Lines For An Album
© Weldon Kees
Over the river and through the woods
To grandmothers house we go ...
Twenty Days
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Twenty days are barely gone,
I was merry all the day.
Folly was my butt of scorn.
Now the fool myself I play.
Sonnet II: Bridal Birth
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
As when desire, long darkling, dawns, and first
The mother looks upon the newborn child,
The Boss's Boots
© Henry Lawson
The shearing super sprained his foot, as bosses sometimes do
And wore, until the shed cut out, one side-spring and one shoe;
And though he changed his pants at timessome worn-out and some neat
No tiger there could possibly mistake the Bosss feet.
Three Friends Of Mine
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When I remember them, those friends of mine,
Who are no longer here, the noble three,
