Butterflies

Related poetry:

1. The King of Yellow Butterflies (A Poem Game.) The King of Yellow Butterflies, The King of Yellow Butterflies, The King of Yellow Butterflies, Now orders forth his men. He says “The time is almost here When violets bloom again.” Adown the road the fickle rout Goes flashing proud and bold, A down the road the fickle rout Goes flashing proud […]...
2. I've a Secret to Tell Thee I’ve a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here Oh! not where the world its vigil keeps: I’ll seek, to whisper it in thine ear, Some shore where the Spirit of Silence sleeps; Where Summer’s wave unmurmuring dies, Nor fay can hear the fountain’s gush; Where, if but a note her night-bird sighs, The […]...
3. Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song II Thistledown in prison sings: Bright shines the summer sun, Soft is the summer air; Gayly the wood-birds sing, Flowers are blooming fair. But, deep in the dark, cold rock, Sadly I dwell, Longing for thee, dear friend, Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell replies: Through sunlight and summer air I have sought for thee long, Guided by birds […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Dream-Forest Where sunshine flecks the green, Through towering woods my way Goes winding all the day. Scant are the flowers that bloom Beneath the bosky screen And cage of golden gloom. Few are the birds that call, Shrill-voiced and seldom seen. Where silence masters all, And light my footsteps fall, The whispering runnels only With blazing […]...
6. 264. Song-On a Bank of Flowers ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day, For summer lightly drest, The youthful, blooming Nelly lay, With love and sleep opprest; When Willie, wand’ring thro’ the wood, Who for her favour oft had sued; He gaz’d, he wish’d He fear’d, he blush’d, And trembled where he stood. Her closèd eyes, like weapons sheath’d, […]...
7. Butterflies Eyes aloft, over dangerous places, The children follow the butterflies, And, in the sweat of their upturned faces, Slash with a net at the empty skies. So it goes they fall amid brambles, And sting their toes on the nettle-tops, Till, after a thousand scratches and scrambles, They wipe their brows and the hunting stops. […]...
8. June Sick Room The birds’ shrill fluting Beats on the pink blind, Pierces the pink blind At whose edge fumble the sun’s Fingers till one obtrudes And stirs the thick motes. The room is a close box of pink warmth. The minutes click. A man picks across the street With a metal-pointed stick. Three clocks drop each twelve […]...
9. Vision I love all things that pass: their briefness is Music that fades on transient silences. Winds, birds, and glittering leaves that flare and fall – They fling delight across the world; they call To rhythmic-flashing limbs that rove and race… A moment in the dawn for Youth’s lit face; A moment’s passion, closing on the […]...
10. The Dark Hour And now, when merry winds do blow, And rain makes trees look fresh, An overpowering staleness holds This mortal flesh. Though well I love to feel the rain, And be by winds well blown The mystery of mortal life Doth press me down. And, In this mood, come now what will, Shine Rainbow, Cuckoo call; […]...
11. Lullaby Now the day is done, Now the shepherd sun Drives his white flocks from the sky; Now the flowers rest On their mother’s breast, Hushed by her low lullaby. Now the glowworms glance, Now the fireflies dance, Under fern-boughs green and high; And the western breeze To the forest trees Chants a tuneful lullaby. Now […]...
12. Daybreak In A Garden I heard the farm cocks crowing, loud, and faint, and thin, When hooded night was going and one clear planet winked: I heard shrill notes begin down the spired wood distinct, When cloudy shoals were chinked and gilt with fires of day. White-misted was the weald; the lawns were silver-grey; The lark his lonely field […]...
13. The Gulls I Soft is the sky in the mist-kirtled east, Light is abroad on the sea, All of the heaven with silver is fleeced, Holding the sunrise in fee. Lo! with a flash and uplifting of wings Down where the long ripples break, Cometh a bevy of glad-hearted things, ‘Tis morn, for the gulls are awake. […]...
14. Envoi Fly, white butterflies, out to sea, Frail pale wings for the winds to try, Small white wings that we scarce can see Fly. Here and there may a chance-caught eye Note in a score of you twain or three Brighter or darker of tinge or dye. Some fly light as a laugh of glee, Some […]...
15. The Inward Morning Packed in my mind lie all the clothes Which outward nature wears, And in its fashion’s hourly change It all things else repairs. In vain I look for change abroad, And can no difference find, Till some new ray of peace uncalled Illumes my inmost mind. What is it gilds the trees and clouds, And […]...
16. Christ's Nativity 1 Awake, glad heart! get up and sing! 2 It is the birth-day of thy King. 3 Awake! awake! 4 The Sun doth shake 5 Light from his locks, and all the way 6 Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day. 7 Awake, awake! hark how th’ wood rings; 8 Winds whisper, and the busy springs […]...
17. The Prisoner Still let my tyrants know, I am not doomed to wear Year after year in gloom and desolate despair; A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty. He comes with western winds, with evening’s wandering airs, With that clear dusk of heaven that brings the thickest stars: […]...
18. There is a morn by men unseen There is a morn by men unseen Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May And all day long, with dance and game, And gambol I may never name Employ their holiday. Here to light measure, move the feet Which walk no more the village street Nor by the wood are found Here are […]...
19. Epilogue UNDER THE BLESSING OF YOUR PSYCHE WINGS Though I have found you llke a snow-drop pale, On sunny days have found you weak and still, Though I have often held your girlish head Drooped on my shoulder, faint from little ill:- Under the blessing of your Psyche-wings I hide to-night like one small broken bird, […]...
20. The Joy of Earth OH, the sudden wings arising from the ploughed fields brown Showered aloft in spray of song the wild-bird twitter floats O’er the unseen fount awhile, and then comes dropping down Nigh the cool brown earth to hush enraptured notes. Far within a dome of trembling opal throbs the fire, Mistily its rain of diamond lances […]...
21. Melmillo Three and thirty birds there stood In an elder in a wood; Called Melmillo flew off three, Leaving thirty in the tree; Called Melmillo nine now gone, And the boughs held twenty-one; Called Melmillo and eighteen Left but three to nod and preen; Called Melmillo three two one Now of birds were feathers none. Then […]...
22. The Oven Bird There is a singer everyone has heard, Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird, Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again. He says that leaves are old and that for flowers Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten. He says the early petal-fall is past When pear and cherry bloom went down in […]...
23. Before Day Come in this hour to set my spirit free When earth is no more mine though night goes out, And stretching forth these arms I cannot be Lord of winged sunrise and dim Arcady: When fieldward boys far off with clack and shout From orchards scare the birds in sudden rout, Come, ere my heart […]...
24. Two butterflies went out at Noon Two butterflies went out at Noon And waltzed upon a Farm Then stepped straight through the Firmament And rested, on a Beam And then together bore away Upon a shining Sea Though never yet, in any Port Their coming, mentioned be If spoken by the distant Bird If met in Ether Sea By Frigate, or […]...
25. Columbus Steer on, bold sailor Wit may mock thy soul that sees the land, And hopeless at the helm may droop the weak and weary hand, Yet ever ever to the West, for there the coast must lie, And dim it dawns, and glimmering dawns before thy reason’s eye; Yea, trust the guiding God and go […]...
26. The Soul of the City Receives the Gift of the Holy Spirit A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS Censers are swinging, Over the town; Censers are swinging, Look overhead! Censers are swinging, Heaven comes down. City, dead city, Awake from the dead! Censers, tremendous, Gleam overhead. Wind-harps are ringing, Wind-harps unseen- Calling and calling:- “Wake from the dead. Rise, little city, Shine like a queen.” Soldiers of […]...
27. Brignall Banks O, Brignall banks are wild and fair, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there, Would grace a summer queen: And as I rode by Dalton Hall, Beneath the turrets high, A Maiden on the castle wall Was singing merrily:- ‘O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair, And Greta woods are green! […]...
28. 'Yes, holy be thy resting place&#039 Yes, holy be thy resting place Wherever thou may’st lie; The sweetest winds breathe on thy face, The softest of the sky. And will not guardian Angles send Kind dreams and thoughts of love, Though I no more may watchful bend Thy longed repose above? And will not heaven itself bestow A beam of glory […]...
29. Like Flowers, that heard the news of Dews Like Flowers, that heard the news of Dews, But never deemed the dripping prize Awaited their low Brows Or Bees that thought the Summer’s name Some rumor of Delirium, No Summer could for Them Or Arctic Creatures, dimly stirred By Tropic Hint some Travelled Bird Imported to the Wood Or Wind’s bright signal to the […]...
30. A Song of Enchantment A song of Enchantment I sang me there, In a green-green wood, by waters fair, Just as the words came up to me I sang it under the wild wood tree. Widdershins turned I, singing it low, Watching the wild birds come and go; No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen Under […]...
31. The Green Bowl This little bowl is like a mossy pool In a Spring wood, where dogtooth violets grow Nodding in chequered sunshine of the trees; A quiet place, still, with the sound of birds, Where, though unseen, is heard the endless song And murmur of the never resting sea. ‘T was winter, Roger, when you made this […]...
32. The Invitation Best and brightest, come away, Fairer far than this fair day, Which, like thee, to those in sorrow Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough year just awake In its cradle on the brake. The brightest hour of unborn Spring Through the Winter wandering, Found, it seems, the halcyon morn To hoar February […]...
33. Woods in Winter When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the lonely vale. O’er the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods, The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And gladden these deep solitudes. Where, twisted round the barren oak, The […]...
34. The Waving Of The Corn Ploughman, whose gnarly hand yet kindly wheeled Thy plough to ring this solitary tree With clover, whose round plat, reserved a-field, In cool green radius twice my length may be Scanting the corn thy furrows else might yield, To pleasure August, bees, fair thoughts, and me, That here come oft together daily I, Stretched prone […]...
35. Old Song TIS a dull sight To see the year dying, When winter winds Set the yellow wood sighing: Sighing, O sighing! When such a time cometh I do retire Into an old room Beside a bright fire: O, pile a bright fire! And there I sit Reading old things, Of knights and lorn damsels, While the […]...
36. Awake, My Heart Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break, It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake The o’ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake! She too that loveth awaketh and hopes for thee: Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee, Already they watch the path thy […]...
37. The Garden of Proserpine Here, where the world is quiet; Here, where all trouble seems Dead winds’ and spent waves’ riot In doubtful dreams of dreams; I watch the green field growing For reaping folk and sowing, For harvest-time and mowing, A sleepy world of streams. I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep; […]...
38. A Gravestone Far from the churchyard dig his grave, On some green mound beside the wave; To westward, sea and sky alone, And sunsets. Put a mossy stone, With mortal name and date, a harp And bunch of wild flowers, carven sharp; Then leave it free to winds that blow, And patient mosses creeping; slow, And wandering […]...
39. Idyll In the grey summer garden I shall find you With day-break and the morning hills behind you. There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings; And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings. Not from the past you’ll come, but from that deep Where beauty murmurs to the soul asleep: And I shall […]...
40. The Feast of Age SEE where the light streams over Connla’s fountain Starward aspire! The sacred sign upon the holy mountain Shines in white fire: Wavering and flaming yonder o’er the snows The diamond light Melts into silver or to sapphire glows, Night beyond night: And from the heaven of heaven descends on earth A dew divine. Come, let […]...