Thankful poems
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The Australian Bell-Bird
© Jean Ingelow
And 'Oyez, Oyez' following after me
On my great errand to the sundown went.
Lost, lost, and lost, whenas the cross road flee
Up tumbled hills, on each for eyes attent
A carriage creepeth.
Sunday Next Before Advent
© John Keble
Will God indeed with fragments bear,
Snatched late from the decaying year?
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - October
© George MacDonald
1.
REMEMBER, Lord, thou hast not made me good.
The Miller's Maid
© Robert Bloomfield
Near the high road upon a winding stream
An honest Miller rose to Wealth and Fame:
The noblest Virtues cheer'd his lengthen'd days,
And all the Country echo'd with his praise:
His Wife, the Doctress of the neighb'ring Poor,
Drew constant pray'rs and blessings round his door.
Hymn Of The Children
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Thine are all the gifts, O God!
Thine the broken bread;
Let the naked feet be shod,
And the starving fed.
Written In A Seat At Stoke Park, Near The Vicararage-House, Then Inhabited By The Author, And Comman
© Henry James Pye
Not with more joy from the loud tempest's roar,
The dangerous billow, and more dangerous shore,
Paracelsus: Part IV: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Festus.
So strange
That I must hope, indeed, your messenger
Has mingled his own fancies with the words
Purporting to be yours.
To Imagination
© Emily Jane Brontë
When weary with the long day's care,
And earthly change from pain to pain,
And lost, and ready to despair,
Thy kind voice calls me back again:
Oh, my true friend! I am not lone,
While then canst speak with such a tone!
My Birthday
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Beneath the moonlight and the snow
Lies dead my latest year;
The winter winds are wailing low
Its dirges in my ear.
The Troubadour. Canto 2
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
THE first, the very first; oh! none
Can feel again as they have done;
In love, in war, in pride, in all
The planets of life's coronal,
However beautiful or bright,--
What can be like their first sweet light?
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
Address To The Scholars Of The Village School Of ---
© William Wordsworth
Mourn, Shepherd, near thy old grey stone;
Thou Angler, by the silent flood;
And mourn when thou art all alone,
Thou Woodman, in the distant wood!
Power Of Music
© William Wordsworth
AN Orpheus! an Orpheus! yes, Faith may grow bold,
And take to herself all the wonders of old;--
Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same
In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name.
safe-home
© Rg Gregory
don't be so lazy maisie maisie
don't be so lazy please
i know it's snowing
and a hard wind's blowing
Benedetta Minelli
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
IT is near morning. Ere the next night fall
I shall be made the bride of heaven. Then home
To my still marriage chamber I shall come,
And spouseless, childless, watch the slow years crawl.
M'Fingal - Canto II
© John Trumbull
"T' evade these crimes of blackest grain
You prate of liberty in vain,
And strive to hide your vile designs
In terms abstruse, like school-divines.
The Grey Rock
© William Butler Yeats
'The Danish troop was driven out
Between the dawn and dusk,' she said;
'Although the event was long in doubt.
Although the King of Ireland's dead
And half the kings, before sundown
All was accomplished.
Melancholetta
© Lewis Carroll
With saddest music all day long
She soothed her secret sorrow:
At night she sighed "I fear 'twas wrong
Such cheerful words to borrow.
Dearest, a sweeter, sadder song
I'll sing to thee to-morrow."
Im thankful that my life doth not deceive
© Henry David Thoreau
Im thankful that my life doth not deceive
Itself with a low loftiness, half height,
