Category: Nature Poems

On thy stupendous summit, rock sublime!That o’er the channel reared, half way at seaThe mariner at early morning hails,I would recline; while Fancy should go forth,And represent the strange and awful hourOf vast concussion; when the OmnipotentStretched forth his arm, and rent the solid hills,Bidding the impetuous main flood rush betweenThe rifted shores, and from…

The soote season, that bud and bloom forth bringsWith green hath clad the hill and eke the vale;The nightingale with feathers new she sings;And turtle to her make hath told her tale.Summer is come, for every spray now springs;The hart hath hung his old head on the pale;The buck in brake his winter coat he…

Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.Nor the woman in the ambulanceWhose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly — A gift, a love giftUtterly unasked forBy a sky Palely and flamilyIgniting its carbon monoxides, by eyesDulled to a halt under bowlers. O my God, what am IThat these late mouths should…

Over the land freckled with snow half-thawedThe speculating rooks at their nests cawedAnd saw from elm-tops, delicate as flowers of grass,What we below could not see, Winter pass.

What is this life if, full of care,We have no time to stand and stare?— No time to stand beneath the boughs,And stare as long as sheep and cows: No time to see, when woods we pass,Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass: No time to see, in broad daylight,Streams full of stars, like skies…

Tell me not here, it needs not saying,What tune the enchantress playsIn aftermaths of soft SeptemberOr under blanching mays,For she and I were long acquaintedAnd I knew all her ways. On russet floors, by waters idle,The pine lets fall its cone;The cuckoo shouts all day at nothingIn leafy dells alone;And traveller’s joy beguiles in autumnHearts…

In vain to me the smiling Mornings shine,And reddening Phœbus lifts his golden fire;The birds in vain their amorous descant join;Or cheerful fields resume their green attire;These ears, alas! for other notes repine,A different object do these eyes require;My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.Yet Morning smiles…

A Little Lane, the brook runs close besideAnd spangles in the sunshine while the fish glide swiftly byAnd hedges leafing with the green spring tideFrom out their greenery the old birds flyAnd chirp and whistle in the morning sunThe pilewort glitters ‘neath the pale blue skyThe little robin has its nest begunAnd grass green linnets…

The sun is warm, the sky is clear,         The waves are dancing fast and bright,      Blue isles and snowy mountains wear      The purple noon’s transparent might,         The breath of the moist earth is light,      Around its unexpanded buds;         Like many a voice of one delight,      The winds, the birds, the ocean floods,The City’s voice itself, is soft like Solitude’s.          I see the…

An Elegy on the Death of John Keats I I weep for Adonais—he is dead!Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tearsThaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!And thou, sad Hour, selected from all yearsTo mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers,And teach them thine own sorrow, say: “With meDied Adonais; till the…