Poem Lake | Page 3 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Song on May Morning Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May! that doth inspire Mirth and youth and warm desire;... Poet: John Milton	Morning in May From “The Canterbury Pilgrims: The Knightes Tale” THE BUSY 1 larke, messager of daye, Salueth in hire song the morwe graye; And fyry Phebus ryseth up so brighte, That al the orient laugheth of the lighte, And with his stremes dryeth in the greves 2... Poet: Geoffrey Chaucer	Winter Morning From “The Winter Morning Walk:” “The Task,” Bk. V. ’T IS the morning, and the sun with ruddy orb Ascending fires the horizon; while the clouds, That crowd away before the driving wind, More ardent as the disc emerges more, Resembles most some city in a... Poet: William Cowper	Morning Meditations Let Taylor preach, upon a morning breezy, How well to rise while nights and larks are flying— For my part, getting up seems not so easy By half as lying. What if the lark does carol in the sky, Soaring beyond the sight to find him out,—... Poet: Thomas Hood
Angels, in the early morning Angels in the early morning May be seen the dews among, Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying : Do the buds to them belong ? Angels when the sun... Poet:	Good Morning — Midnight — Good Morning — Midnight — I'm coming Home — Day — got tired of Me — How could I — of Him? Sunshine was a sweet place — I liked to stay — But Morn — didn't want me — now — So — Goodnight... Poet:	He is alive, this morning — He is alive, this morning — He is alive — and awake — Birds are resuming for Him — Blossoms — dress for His Sake. Bees — to their Loaves of Honey Add an Amber Crumb Him — to regale — Me — Only — ... Poet:	The Morning after Woe — The Morning after Woe — 'Tis frequently the Way — Surpasses all that rose before — For utter Jubilee — As Nature did not care — And piled her Blossoms on — And further to parade a Joy Her... Poet:
The Red — Blaze — is the Morning — The Red — Blaze — is the Morning — The Violet — is Noon — The Yellow — Day — is falling — And after that — is none — But Miles of Sparks — at Evening — Reveal the Width that burned — The Territory... Poet:	The Sun — just touched the Morning — The Sun — just touched the Morning — The Morning — Happy thing — Supposed that He had come to dwell — And Life would all be Spring! She felt herself supremer — A Raised — Ethereal Thing! Henceforth... Poet: