The Bluebell

Related poetry:

1. The Frost-King – Song II Brighter shone the golden shadows; On the cool wind softly came The low, sweet tones of happy flowers, Singing little Violet’s name. ‘Mong the green trees was it whispered, And the bright waves bore it on To the lonely forest flowers, Where the glad news had not gone. Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom, And […]...
2. Lines Written at Thorp Green That summer sun, whose genial glow Now cheers my drooping spirit so Must cold and distant be, And only light our northern clime With feeble ray, before the time I long so much to see. And this soft whispering breeze that now So gently cools my fevered brow, This too, alas, must turn To a […]...
3. To The River Otter Dear native brook! wild streamlet of the West! How many various-fated years have passed, What happy and what mournful hours, since last I skimmed the smooth thin stone along thy breast, Numbering its light leaps! Yet so deep impressed Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes I never shut amid the sunny ray, […]...
4. Sonnet To the River Otter Dear native Brook! wild Streamlet of the West! How many various-fated years have past, What happy and what mournful hours, since last I skimm’d the smooth thin stone along thy breast, Numbering its light leaps! yet so deep imprest Sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes I never shut […]...
5. Wayside Flowers Pluck not the wayside flower, It is the traveller’s dower; A thousand passers-by Its beauties may espy, May win a touch of blessing From Nature’s mild caressing. The sad of heart perceives A violet under leaves Like sonic fresh-budding hope; The primrose on the slope A spot of sunshine dwells, And cheerful message tells Of […]...
6. Ne'er Ask the Hour Ne’er ask the hour what is it to us How Time deals out his treasures? The golden moments lent us thus Are not his coin, but Pleasure’s. If counting them o’er could add to their blisses, I’d number each glorious second: But moments of joy are, like Lesbia’s kisses, Too quick and sweet to be […]...
7. Sorrowing Love And again the flowers are come, And the light shakes, And no tiny voice is dumb, And a bud breaks On the humble bush and the proud restless tree. Come with me! Look, this little flower is pink, And this one white. Here’s a pearl cup for your drink, Here’s for your delight A yellow […]...
8. Celandine Thinking of her had saddened me at first, Until I saw the sun on the celandines lie Redoubled, and she stood up like a flame, A living thing, not what before I nursed, The shadow I was growing to love almost, The phantom, not the creature with bright eye That I had thought never to […]...
9. Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song I Awake! Awake! for the earliest gleam Of golden sunlight shines On the rippling waves, that brightly flow Beneath the flowering vines. Awake! Awake! for the low, sweet chant Of the wild-birds’ morning hymn Comes floating by on the fragrant air, Through the forest cool and dim; Then spread each wing, And work, and sing, Through […]...
10. Fairy Song The moonlight fades from flower and rose And the stars dim one by one; The tale is told, the song is sung, And the Fairy feast is done. The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers, And sings to them, soft and low. The early birds erelong will wake: ‘T is time for the Elves to go. […]...
11. The Rose of Midnight THE moon is now an opening flower, The sky a cliff of blue. The moon is now a silver rose; Her pollen is the dew. Her pollen is the mist that swings Across her face of dreams: Her pollen is the April rain, Filling the April streams. Her pollen is eternal life, Endless ambrosial foam. […]...
12. Flower Gardener Gas got me in the first World War, And all my mates at rest are laid. I felt I might survive them for I am a gardener by trade. My life is in the open air, And kindly is the work I do, Since flowers are my joy and care, And comfort too. My flowers […]...
13. To O. E. A Your voice is the color of a robin’s breast, And there’s a sweet sob in it like rain still rain in the night. Among the leaves of the trumpet-tree, close to his nest, The pea-dove sings, and each note thrills me with strange delight Like the words, wet with music, that well from your trembling […]...
14. One Bumper at Parting One bumper at parting! though many Have circled the board since we met, The fullest, the saddest of any Remains to be crown’d by us yet. The sweetness that pleasure hath in it Is always so slow to come forth, That seldom, alas, till the minute It dies, do we know half its worth. But […]...
15. Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers Are lying in field and lane, With dandelions to tell the hours That never are told again. Oh may I squire you round the meads And pick you posies gay? ‘Twill do no harm to take my arm. ‘You may, young man, you may.’ Ah, spring was sent […]...
16. A Passing Glimpse To Ridgely Torrence On Last Looking into His ‘Hesperides’ I often see flowers from a passing car That are gone before I can tell what they are. I want to get out of the train and go back To see what they were beside the track. I name all the flowers I am sure they […]...
17. Spring in New Hampshire Too green the springing April grass, Too blue the silver-speckled sky, For me to linger here, alas, While happy winds go laughing by, Wasting the golden hours indoors, Washing windows and scrubbing floors. Too wonderful the April night, Too faintly sweet the first May flowers, The stars too gloriously bright, For me to spend the […]...
18. The Maple Tree The Maple with its tassell flowers of green That turns to red, a stag horn shapèd seed Just spreading out its scallopped leaves is seen, Of yellowish hue yet beautifully green. Bark ribb’d like corderoy in seamy screed That farther up the stem is smoother seen, Where the white hemlock with white umbel flowers Up […]...
19. The Garden in Winter Frosty-white and cold it lies Underneath the fretful skies; Snowflakes flutter where the red Banners of the poppies spread, And the drifts are wide and deep Where the lilies fell asleep. But the sunsets o’er it throw Flame-like splendor, lucent glow, And the moonshine makes it gleam Like a wonderland of dream, And the sharp […]...
20. A Clasp Of Hands SOFT, small, and sweet as sunniest flowers That bask in heavenly heat When bud by bud breaks, breathes, and cowers, Soft, small, and sweet. A babe’s hands open as to greet The tender touch of ours And mock with motion faint and fleet The minutes of the new strange hours That earth, not heaven, must […]...
21. Firelight and Nightfall The darkness steals the forms of all the queens, But oh, the palms of his two black hands are red, Inflamed with binding up the sheaves of dead Hours that were once all glory and all queens. And I remember all the sunny hours Of queens in hyacinth and skies of gold, And morning singing […]...
22. Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time, And fortify your self in your decay With means more blessèd than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset, With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers, Much liker […]...
23. Sonnet XVI But wherefore do not you a mightier way Make war upon this bloody tyrant, Time? And fortify yourself in your decay With means more blessed than my barren rhyme? Now stand you on the top of happy hours, And many maiden gardens yet unset With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers, Much liker than […]...
24. Dawn STILL as the holy of holies breathes the vast, Within its crystal depths the stars grow dim; Fire on the altar of the hills at last Burns on the shadowy rim. Moment that holds all moments; white upon The verge it trembles; then like mists of flowers Break from the fairy fountain of the dawn […]...
25. Jim Never knew Jim, did you? Our boy Jim? Bless you, there was the likely lad; Supple and straight and long of limb, Clean as a whistle, and just as glad. Always laughing, wasn’t he, dad? Joy, pure joy to the heart of him, And, oh, but the soothering ways he had, Jim, our Jim! But […]...
26. Wood Rides Who hath not felt the influence that so calms The weary mind in summers sultry hours When wandering thickest woods beneath the arms Of ancient oaks and brushing nameless flowers That verge the little ride who hath not made A minutes waste of time and sat him down Upon a pleasant swell to gaze awhile […]...
27. Alter Ego ALL the morn a spirit gay Breathes within my heart a rhyme, ‘Tis but hide and seek we play In and out the courts of time. Fairy lover, when my feet Through the tangled woodland go, ‘Tis thy sunny fingers fleet Fleck the fire dews to and fro. In the moonlight grows a smile Mid […]...
28. The Question I dreamed that, as I wandered by the way, Bare Winter suddenly was changed to Spring, And gentle odours led my steps astray, Mixed with a sound of waters murmuring Along a shelving bank of turf, which lay Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, […]...
29. Lenten Flowers Primrose, anemone, bluebell, moss Grow in the Kingdom of the Cross And the ash-tree’s purple bud Dresses the spear that sheds his blood. With the thorns that pierce his brow Soft encircling petals grow For in each flower the secret lies Of the tree that crucifies. Garden by the water clear All must die who […]...
30. One Of Twain One of twain, twin-born with flowers that waken, Now hath passed from sense of sun and rain: Wind from off the flower-crowned branch hath shaken One of twain. One twin flower must pass, and one remain: One, the word said soothly, shall be taken, And another left: can death refrain? Two years since was love’s […]...
31. Life LIFE, believe, is not a dream So dark as sages say; Oft a little morning rain Foretells a pleasant day. Sometimes there are clouds of gloom, But these are transient all; If the shower will make the roses bloom, O why lament its fall? Rapidly, merrily, Life’s sunny hours flit by, Gratefully, cheerily, Enjoy them […]...
32. The Gardener LXVIII: None Lives For Ever, Brother None lives for ever, brother, and Nothing lasts for long. Keep that in Mind and rejoice. Our life is not the one old burden, Our path is not the one long Journey. One sole poet has not to sing one Aged song. The flower fades and dies; but he Who wears the flower has not […]...
33. Impatience How can I wait until you come to me? The once fleet mornings linger by the way; Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee At my unrest, they seem to pause, and play Like truant children, while I sigh and say, How can I wait? How can I wait? Of old, the rapid hours Refused […]...
34. Our Hero “Flowers, only flowers bring me dainty posies, Blossoms for forgetfulness,” that was all he said; So we sacked our gardens, violets and roses, Lilies white and bluebells laid we on his bed. Soft his pale hands touched them, tenderly caressing; Soft into his tired eyes came a little light; Such a wistful love-look, gentle as […]...
35. To a Boy Whistling The smiling face of a happy boy With its enchanted key Is now unlocking in memory My store of heartiest joy. And my lost life again to-day, In pleasant colors all aglow, From rainbow tints, to pure white snow, Is a panorama sliding away. The whistled air of a simple tune Eddies and whirls my […]...
36. The Youth By The Brook Beside the brook the boy reclined And wove his flowery wreath, And to the waves the wreath consigned The waves that danced beneath. “So fleet mine hours,” he sighed, “away Like waves that restless flow: And so my flowers of youth decay Like those that float below.” “Ask not why I, alone on earth, Am […]...
37. Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light Oh! think not my spirits are always as light, And as free from a pang as they seem to you now, Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow. No: life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns; And the heart […]...
38. 532. Song-Their groves o' sweet myrtle THEIR groves o’ sweet myrtle let Foreign Lands reckon, Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume; Far dearer to me yon lone glen o’ green breckan, Wi’ the burn stealing under the lang, yellow broom. Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowèrs Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk, lowly, unseen; For there, lightly tripping, […]...
39. A Reminiscence YES, thou art gone! and never more Thy sunny smile shall gladden me ; But I may pass the old church door, And pace the floor that covers thee. May stand upon the cold, damp stone, And think that, frozen, lies below The lightest heart that I have known, The kindest I shall ever know. […]...
40. De Profundis I “Percussus sum sicut foenum, et aruit cor meum.” – Ps. ci Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement-pain It cannot bring again: Twice no one dies. Flower-petals flee; But, since it once hath been, No more that severing scene Can harrow me. Birds faint in dread: I shall not lose old strength In the lone frost’s […]...