Thankful poems
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Winter Cares
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
"Of course, the fire consumes a lot of kindling wood,
When we warm up the house or cook a boiling pot.
Just think what kind of food we'd have to eat each day,
If there were no wood to burn and no helpful fire.
We'd have naught but sodden, sour swill to eat, like swine.
Thanksgiving
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
Let us give thanks to God above,
Thanks for expressions of His love,
Seen in the book of nature, grand
Taught by His love on every hand.
The Ballad of Bouillabaisse
© William Makepeace Thackeray
A street there is in Paris famous,
For which no rhyme our language yields,
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
Garden
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O painter of the fruits and flowers,
We own wise design,
Where these human hands of ours
May share work of Thine!
Virgils Gnat
© Edmund Spenser
And whatsoeuer other flowre of worth,
And whatso other hearb of louely hew
The iouyous Spring out of the ground brings forth,
To cloath her selfe in colours fresh and new;
He planted there, and reard a mount of earth,
In whose high front was writ as doth ensue.
On Queen Anne's Peace, Anno 1713
© Thomas Parnell
Mother of plenty, daughter of the skies,
Sweet Peace, the troubl'd world's desire, arise;
Around thy poet weave thy summer shades,
Within my fancy spread thy flow'ry meads,
Amongst thy train soft ease and pleasure bring,
And thus indulgent sooth me whilst I sing.
Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas
© Anne Brontë
In all we do, and hear, and see,
Is restless Toil and Vanity.
While yet the rolling earth abides,
Men come and go like ocean tides;
The Worlds Exile
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Well, I will tell you, kind adviser,
Why thus I ever roam
In distant lands, nor wish to guide
My footsteps to the fair hill--side
Where stands my sacred home.
Thanksgiving
© James Whitcomb Riley
Let us be thankful--not only because
Since last our universal thanks were told
We have grown greater in the world's applause,
And fortune's newer smiles surpass the old--
Sixteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
Wish not, dear friends, my pain away -
Wish me a wise and thankful heart,
With GOD, in all my griefs, to stay,
Nor from His loved correction start.
Sonnet 84: Highway
© Sir Philip Sidney
Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be,
And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet,
Sonnet. "When in the wintry woods you hear the note"
© Frances Anne Kemble
When in the wintry woods you hear the note
Of some small robin piping his delight
On My Son's Return Out Of England, July 17, 1661.
© Anne Bradstreet
All Praise to him who hath now turn'd
My feares to Joyes, my sighes to song,
The Wonder-Working Magician - Act II
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
CYPRIAN. Ever wrangling in this way,
How ye both my patience try!
Why can he not go? Say why?
A Full Harvest
© James Whitcomb Riley
Seems like a feller'd ort 'o jes' to-day
Git down and roll and waller, don't you know,
The Law Of Death
© John Hay
But when she saw her child was dead,
She scattered ashes on her head,
And seized the small corpse, pale and sweet,
And rushing wildly through the street,
She sobbing fell at Buddha's feet.
