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| Search results for: p | Found 8786 Poems |
| 4861. | In a Spring Grove by William Allingham | | Here the white-ray'd anemone is born,
Wood-sorrel, and the varnish'd buttercup;
And primrose in its purfled green swathed up,
Pallid and sweet r... |
| 4862. | Lepracaun or Fairy Shoemaker, The by William Allingham | | Little Cowboy, what have you heard,
Up on the lonely rath's green mound?
Only the plaintive yellow bird
Sighing in sultry fields around,
Chary, ch... |
| 4863. | On a Forenoon of Spring by William Allingham | | I'm glad I am alive, to see and feel
The full deliciousness of this bright day,
That's like a heart with nothing to conceal;
The young leaves sc... |
| 4864. | Places and Men by William Allingham | | In Sussex here, by shingle and by sand,
Flat fields and farmsteads in their wind-blown trees,
The shallow tide-wave courses to the land,
And all... |
| 4865. | A Calendar of Sonnets: April by Helen Hunt Jackson | | No days such honored days as these! While yet
Fair Aphrodite reigned, men seeking wide
For some fair thing which should forever bide
On earth, h... |
| 4866. | A Calendar of Sonnets: September by Helen Hunt Jackson | | O golden month! How high thy gold is heaped!
The yellow birch-leaves shine like bright coins strung
On wands; the chestnut's yellow pennons tongue... |
| 4867. | Poppies on the Wheat by Helen Hunt Jackson | | Along Ancona's hills the shimmering heat,
A tropic tide of air with ebb and flow
Bathes all the fields of wheat until they glow
Like flashing se... |
| 4868. | September by Helen Hunt Jackson | | 1 The golden-rod is yellow;
2 The corn is turning brown;
3 The trees in apple orchards
4 With fruit are bending down.
5 The gentian's bluest fr... |
| 4869. | The Poet's Forge by Helen Hunt Jackson | | He lies on his back, the idling smith,
A lazy, dreaming fellow is he;
The sky is blue, or the sky is gray,
He lies on his back the livelong day,... |
| 4870. | The Victory of Patience by Helen Hunt Jackson | | Armed of the gods! Divinest conqueror!
What soundless hosts are thine! Nor pomp, nor state,
Nor token, to betray where thou dost wait.
All Natur... |
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