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| Search results for: p | Found 8786 Poems |
| 4081. | A Song of Pitcairn's Island by William Cullen Bryant | | Come, take our boy, and we will go
Before our cabin door;
The winds shall bring us, as they blow,
The murmurs of the shore;
And we will kiss his y... |
| 4082. | After a Tempest by William Cullen Bryant | | The day had been a day of wind and storm;--
The wind was laid, the storm was overpast,--
And stooping from the zenith, bright and warm
Shone the... |
| 4083. | Consumption by William Cullen Bryant | | Ay, thou art for the grave; thy glances shine
Too brightly to shine long; another Spring
Shall deck her for men's eyes---but not for thine---
Se... |
| 4084. | Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood by William Cullen Bryant | | Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen
Enoug... |
| 4085. | Spring in Town by William Cullen Bryant | | The country ever has a lagging Spring,
Waiting for May to call its violets forth,
And June its roses--showers and sunshine bring,
Slowly, the deepe... |
| 4086. | Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant | | To him who in the love of nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of glad... |
| 4087. | A Fleeting Passion by William Henry Davies | | Thou shalt not laugh, thou shalt not romp,
Let's grimly kiss with bated breath;
As quietly and solemnly
As Life when it is kissing Death.
Now ... |
| 4088. | A Plain Life by William Henry Davies | | No idle gold -- since this fine sun, my friend,
Is no mean miser, but doth freely spend.
No prescious stones -- since these green mornings show, ... |
| 4089. | April's Charms by William Henry Davies | | When April scatters charms of primrose gold
Among the copper leaves in thickets old,
And singing skylarks from the meadows rise,
To twinkle like... |
| 4090. | Joy and Pleasure by William Henry Davies | | Now, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.
... |
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