Smile poems
/ page 9 of 369 /
The Rising Village
© Oliver Goldsmith
Thou dear companion of my early years,Partner of all my boyish hopes and fears,To whom I oft addressed the youthful strain,And sought no other praise than thine to gain;Who oft hast bid me emulate his fameWhose genius formed the glory of our name;Say, when thou canst, in manhood's ripened age,With judgment scan the more aspiring page,Wilt thou accept this tribute of my lay,By far too small thy fondness to repay?Say, dearest Brother, wilt thou now excuseThis bolder flight of my adventurous muse? If, then, adown your cheek a tear should flowFor Auburn's Village, and its speechless woe;If, while you weep, you think the
Similar Cases
© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins
There was once a little animal, No bigger than a fox,And on five toes he scampered Over Tertiary rocks
Trivia; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London
© John Gay
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful laysThe proper implements for wintry ways;Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,To read the various warnings of the skies
To Sir Toby,
© Philip Morin Freneau
." The motions of his spirit are black as night, ." And his affections dark as Erebus.." SHAKESPEARE.
Epithalamion
© Flecker James Elroy
Smile then, children, hand in handBright and white as the summer snow,Or that young King of the Grecian land,Who smiled on Thetis, long ago, --So long ago when, heart aflame,The grave and gentle Peleus cameTo the shore where the halcyon fliesTo wed the maiden of his devotion,The dancing lady with sky-blue eyes,Thetis, the darling of Paradise,The daughter of old Ocean
Magwere, Who Waits Wondering
© Fairbridge Kingsley
INear the edge of the big swamp where cane rats live,Grew Magwere the mealie.
Ben Bolt
© English Thomas Dunn
Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt -- Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown,Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile, And trembled with fear at your frown?In the old church-yard in the valley, Ben Bolt, In a corner obscure and alone,They have fitted a slab of the granite so grey, And Alice lies under the stone
"O May I Join the Choir Invisible"
© George Eliot
Longum illud tempus, quum non ero, magis me movet, quam hoc exigium.
The Young Captive
© Toru Dutt
The budding shoot ripens unharmed by the scythe,Without fear of the press, on vine branches lithe, Through spring-tide the green clusters bloom
An Evening Contemplation in a College
© Duncombe John
The Curfew tolls the hour of closing gates,With jarring sound the porter turns the key,Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits,And slowly, sternly quits it -- tho' for me.
Ode to the Cambro-Britons and their Harp, His Ballad of Agincourt
© Michael Drayton
Fair stood the wind for France,When we our sails advance;Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry;But putting to the main,At Caux, the mouth of Seine,With all his martial train Landed King Harry.
To Sir Henry Wotton [Here's no more news, than virtue: I may as well...]
© John Donne
Here's no more news, than virtue: I may as wellTell you Calais, or Saint Michael's tales, as tellThat vice doth here habitually dwell.
To My Spinning-Wheel
© Dixon Charlotte Eliza
I love thee well my little wheel,And why I love thee I can tell:When tir'd of folly, shew and noise,Of feeling griefs, and feigning joys,Of visiting, and company,And all that's called society,I sought in solitude and peace,To sooth a mind too ill at ease,Thou kindly then thy aid didst lend,I found in thee almost a friend
Art Thou Poor
© Thomas Dekker
Art thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? O sweet content!Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed? O punishment!Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexedTo add to golden numbers, golden numbers?O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content! Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labour bears a lovely face; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!
Canst drink the waters of the crisped spring? O sweet content!Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? O punishment!Then he that patiently want's burden bearsNo burden bears, but is a king, a king:O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content! Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labour bears a lovely face; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny!
Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,Smiles awake you when you rise
Delia VI
© Samuel Daniel
Fair is my love, and cruel as she's fair:Her brow shades frowns although her eyes are sunny,Her smiles are lightning though her pride despair,And her disdains are gall, her favours honey;A modest maid, deck'd with a blush of honour,Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love,The wonder of all eyes that look upon her:Sacred on earth, design'd a saint above
