| Page 1717 | Poem Lake

Title	Poet	Year Written	Collection	Body
The Southern Snow-Bird	William Hamilton Hayne		English	I see a tiny fluttering form Beneath the soft snow’s soundless storm, ’Mid a strange noonlight palely shed Through mocking cloud-rifts overhead. All other birds are far from sight,— They think the day has turned to night; But he is cast in...
The Sower and his Seed	William Edward Hartpole Lecky	1858	English	He planted an oak in his father’s park And a thought in the minds of men, And he bade farewell to his native shore, Which he never will see again. Oh merrily stream the tourist throng To the glow of the Southern sky; A vision of pleasure...
The Spell	Paul Verlaine	1864	English	From the French by Gertrude Hall “Son joyeux, importun, d’un clavecin sonore.” —PÉTRUS BOREL. THE KEYBOARD, over which two slim hands float, Shines vaguely in the twilight pink and gray, Whilst with a sound like wings, note after note Takes...
The Sphinx	Henry Howard Brownell		English	They glare—those stony eyes! That in the fierce sun-rays Showered from these burning skies, Through untold centuries Have kept their sleepless and unwinking gaze. Since what unnumbered year Hast thou kept watch and ward, And o’er...
The Sphinx Speaks	Francis Saltus Saltus		English	Carved by a mighty race whose vanished hands Formed empires more destructible than I, In sultry silence I forever lie, Wrapped in the shifting garment of the sands. Below me, Pharaoh’s scintillating bands With clashings of loud cymbals have passed by,...
The Spider and the Fly	Mary Howitt		English	“will you walk into my parlor?” said the spider to the fly; “’T is the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy. The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show when you are there.” “Oh no, no,” said the little fly; “to...
The Spider and the Fly (Weed)				"Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly, "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy; The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show you when you are there...
The Spider as an Artist				The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed — Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified By every Broom and Bridget Throughout a Christian Land — Neglected Son of Genius I take...
The Spider holds a Silver Ball			English	The Spider holds a Silver Ball In unperceived Hands — And dancing softly to Himself His Yarn of Pearl — unwinds — He plies from Nought to Nought — In unsubstantial Trade — Supplants our Tapestries...
The Spinner	Mary Ainge De Vere		English	The spinner twisted her slender thread As she sat and spun: “The earth and the heavens are mine,” she said, “And the moon and sun; Into my web the sunlight goes, And the breath of May, And the crimson life of the new-blown rose That was...
The Spinner	Mary Ainge De Vere		English	The Spinner twisted her slender thread As she sat and spun: “The earth and the heavens are mine,” she said, “And the moon and sun; Into my web the sunlight goes, And the breath of May, And the crimson life of the new-blown rose That was...
The Spinning-Wheel Song	John Francis Waller		English	Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning; Close by the window young Eileen is spinning; Bent o’er the fire, her blind grandmother, sitting, Is croaning, and moaning, and drowsily knitting— “Eileen, achora, I hear some one tapping.” “’T is the ivy, dear...
The Spirit is the Conscious Ear.			English	The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect — that's audible — That is admitted — Here — For other Services — as Sound — There hangs a smaller Ear Outside the Castle — that...
The Spirit lasts — but in what mode —			English	The Spirit lasts — but in what mode — Below, the Body speaks, But as the Spirit furnishes — Apart, it never talks — The Music in the Violin Does not emerge alone But Arm in Arm with Touch, yet Touch ...
The Spirit of the Fall	Danske Dandridge		English	Come, on thy swaying feet, Wild Spirit of the Fall! With wind-blown skirts, loose hair of russet-brown, Crowned with bright berries of the bitter-sweet. Trip a light measure with the hurrying leaf, Straining thy few late roses to thy breast, With...
The Spirit of the Maine	Tudor Jenks		English	In battle-line of sombre gray Our ships-of-war advance, As Red Cross Knights in holy fray Charged with avenging lance. And terrible shall be thy plight, O fleet of cruel Spain! For ever in our van doth fight The spirit of the Maine...
The Spirit of the Wheat - U. Valentine	Edward A		English	Such times as windy moods do stir The foamless billows of the wheat, I glimpse the floating limbs of her In instant visions melting sweet. A milky shoulder’s dip and gleam, Or arms that clasp upon the air, An upturned face’s rosy dream,...
The Spirit-Land	Jones Very		English	Father! thy wonders do not singly stand, Nor far removed where feet have seldom strayed; Around us ever lies the enchanted land, In marvels rich to thine own sons displayed. In finding thee are all things round us found; In losing thee are all things lost...
The Spring Beauties	Helen Gray Cone		English	The puritan Spring Beauties stood freshly clad for church; A Thrush, white-breasted, o’er them sat singing on his perch. “Happy be! for fair are ye!” the gentle singer told them, But presently a buff-coat Bee came booming up to scold them. “Vanity, oh, vanity...
The spry Arms of the Wind			English	The spry Arms of the Wind If I could crawl between I have an errand imminent To an adjoining Zone — I should not care to stop My Process is not long The Wind could wait without the Gate ...