English Poems – Page 95

More English Poems

• Unfulfilment

  Ah, june is here, but where is May?—
  That lovely, shadowy thing,
  Fair promiser of fairer day, …

  Frances Louisa Bushnell

• In the Dark

  Restless, to-night, and ill at ease,
  And finding every place too strait,
  I leave the porch shut in with trees, …

  Frances Louisa Bushnell

• On Waking from a Dreamless Sleep

  I waked; the sun was in the sky,
  The face of heaven was fair;
  The silence all about me lay, …

  Annie Fields

• Theocritus

  Ay! unto thee belong
  The pipe and song,
  Theocritus,— …

  Annie Fields

• Little Guinever

  “when queen Guinever of Britain was a little wench.”
  LOVE’S LABOUR ’S LOST

  Annie Fields

• Song, to the Gods, Is Sweetest Sacrifice

  “behold another singer!” Criton said,
  And sneered, and in his sneering turned the leaf:
  “Who reads the poets now? They are past and dead: …

  Annie Fields

• The Guest

  Speechless sorrow sat with me;
  I was sighing wearily;
  Lamp and fire were out; the rain …

  Harriet McEwen Kimball

• All 's Well

  The day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep,
  My weary spirit seeks repose in Thine.
  Father! forgive my trespasses, and keep …

  Harriet McEwen Kimball

• White Azaleas

  Azaleas—whitest of white!
  White as the drifted snow
  Fresh-fallen out of the night, …

  Harriet McEwen Kimball

• The Mower in Ohio

  The bees in the clover are making honey, and I am making my hay:
  The air is fresh, I seem to draw a young man’s breath to-day.
  The bees and I are alone in the grass: the air is so very still …

  John James Piatt

• Rose and Root

  The rose aloft in sunny air,
  Beloved alike by bird and bee,
  Takes for the dark Root little care …

  John James Piatt

• To Abraham Lincoln

  Stern be the pilot in the dreadful hour
  When a great nation, like a ship at sea
  With the wroth breakers whitening at her lee, …

  John James Piatt

• Farther

  Far-off a young State rises, full of might:
  I paint its brave escutcheon. Near at hand
  See the log-cabin in the rough clearing stand; …

  John James Piatt

• The Child in the Street

  Even as tender parents lovingly
  Send a dear child in some true servant’s care
  Forth in the street, for larger light and air, …

  John James Piatt

• The Guerdon

  To the quick brow Fame grudges her best wreath
  While the quick heart to enjoy it throbs beneath:
  On the dead forehead’s sculptured marble shown, …

  John James Piatt

• Torch-Light in Autumn

  I lift this sumach-bough with crimson flare,
  And, touched with subtle pangs of dreamy pain,
  Through the dark wood a torch I seem to bear …

  John James Piatt

• Leaves at My Window

  I watch the leaves that flutter in the wind,
  Bathing my eyes with coolness and my heart
  Filling with springs of grateful sense anew, …

  John James Piatt

• The Lost Genius

  A giant came to me when I was young,
  My instant will to ask—
  My earthly Servant, from the earth he sprung …

  John James Piatt

• Purpose

  strong in thy steadfast purpose, be
  Like some brave master of the sea,
  Whose keel, by Titan pulses quickened, knows …

  John James Piatt

• Phantoms All

  Come, all you sailors of the southern waters,
  You apparitions of the Spanish main,
  Who dyed the jewelled depths blood-red with slaughters, …

  Harriet Prescott Spofford

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