Posted on December 18th, 2007 by admin
I STOOD by the unvintageable sea
Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray,
The long red fires of the dying day
Burned in the west; the wind piped drearily;
And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee:
“Alas!” I cried, “my life is full of pain,
And who can garner fruit or golden grain,
From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly!”
My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw
Nathless I threw them as my final cast
Into the sea, and waited for the end.
When lo! a sudden glory! and I saw
The argent splendour of white limbs ascend,
And in that joy forgot my tortured past.
By Oscar Wilde
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Filed under: Funny Nature Poems
Posted on December 17th, 2007 by admin
The sin was mine; I did not understand.
So now is music prisoned in her cave,
Save where some ebbing desultory wave
Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand.
And in the withered hollow of this land
Hath Summer dug herself so deep a grave,
That hardly can the leaden willow crave
One silver blossom from keen Winter’s hand.
But who is this who cometh by the shore?
(Nay, love, look up and wonder!) Who is this
Who cometh in dyed garments from the South?
It is thy new-found Lord, and he shall kiss
The yet unravished roses of thy mouth,
And I shall weep and worship, as before.
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Filed under: Funny Nature Poems
Posted on December 17th, 2007 by admin
He lay awake, with a harassed air,
And she, in her cloud of loose lank hair,
Seemed trouble-tried
As the dawn drew in on their faces there.
The chamber looked far over the sea
From a white hotel on a white-stoned quay,
And stepping a stride
He parted the window-drapery.
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Posted on December 8th, 2007 by admin
In the days before the high tide
Swept away the towers of sand
Built with so much care and labour
By the children of the land,
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Posted on December 8th, 2007 by admin
Open the window, and let the air Freshly blow upon face and hair,
And fill the room, as it fills the night, with the breath of the rain’s sweet might.
Hark! The burthen, swift and prone!
And how the odorous limes are blown! Stormy Love’s abroad, and keeps Hopeful coil for gentle sleeps.
Not a blink shall burn to-night in my chamber, of sordid light; Nought will I have, not a window-pane,
‘Twixt me and the air and the great good rain,
Which ever shall sing me sharp lullabies;
And God’s own darkness shall close mine eyes;
And I will sleep, with all things blest, In the pure earth-shadow of natural rest.
by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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Posted on December 6th, 2007 by admin
THE daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
“Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?”
“Because, sir, love is sweet!”
We are the flower, Thou the sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline,
We nearer steal to Thee,—
Enamoured of the parting west,
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,
Night’s possibility!
-Emily
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