Poèmes sur le thème : spring

Poèmes sur le thème « spring » sur Poets.by.

ContemplatifHelen Hunt Jackson

A Calendar of Sonnets: April

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, her beauteous memory to set In fitting frame that no age could forget, Her name in lovely April's name did hide, And leave it there, eternally allied To all the fairest flowers Spring did beget. And when fair Aphrodite passed from earth, Her shrines forgotten and her feasts of mirth, A holier symbol still in seal and sign, Sweet April took, of kingdom most divine, When Christ ascended, in the time of birth Of spring anemones, in Palestine.
RomantiqueHelen Hunt Jackson

A Calendar of Sonnets: May

O Month when they who love must love and wed! Were one to go to worlds where May is naught, And seek to tell the memories he had brought From earth of thee, what were most fitly said? I know not if the rosy showers shed From apple-boughs, or if the soft green wrought In fields, or if the robin's call be fraught The most with thy delight. Perhaps they read Thee best who in the ancient time did say Thou wert the sacred month unto the old: No blossom blooms upon thy brightest day So subtly sweet as memories which unfold In aged hearts which in thy sunshine lie, To sun themselves once more before they die.
ContemplatifHelen Hunt Jackson

A Calendar of Sonnets: March

Month which the warring ancients strangely styled The month of war,--as if in their fierce ways Were any month of peace!--in thy rough days I find no war in Nature, though the wild Winds clash and clang, and broken boughs are piled As feet of writhing trees. The violets raise Their heads without affright, without amaze, And sleep through all the din, as sleeps a child. And he who watches well may well discern Sweet expectation in each living thing. Like pregnant mother the sweet earth doth yearn; In secret joy makes ready for the spring; And hidden, sacred, in her breast doth bear Annunciation lilies for the year.
JoyeuxGerard Manley Hopkins

The Furl of Fresh-Leaved Dogrose Down

The furl of fresh-leaved dogrose down His cheeks the forth-and-flaunting sun Had swarthed about with lion-brown Before the Spring was done. His locks like all a ravel-rope’s-end, With hempen strands in spray— Fallow, foam-fallow, hanks—fall’n off their ranks, Swung down at a disarray. Or like a juicy and jostling shock Of bluebells sheaved in May Or wind-long fleeces on the flock A day off shearing day. Then over his turnиd temples—here— Was a rose, or, failing that, Rough-Robin or five-lipped campion clear For a beauty-bow to his hat,
ContemplatifGerard Manley Hopkins

Heaven--Haven: A Nun Takes The Veil

I have desired to go Where springs not fail, To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail And a few lilies blow. And I have asked to be Where no storms come,Where the green swell is in the havens dumb, And out of the swing of the sea.
RomantiqueEmily Dickinson

Spring comes on the World --

Spring comes on the World -- I sight the Aprils -- Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative, Touched to Conditions By a Hum.
ContemplatifEmily Dickinson

A Light exists in Spring

A Light exists in Spring Not present on the Year At any other period -- When March is scarcely here A Color stands abroad On Solitary Fields That Science cannot overtake But Human Nature feels. It waits upon the Lawn, It shows the furthest Tree Upon the furthest Slope you know It almost speaks to you. Then as Horizons step Or Noons report away Without the Formula of sound It passes and we stay --
ContemplatifEmily Dickinson

I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --

I cannot meet the Spring unmoved -- I feel the old desire -- A Hurry with a lingering, mixed, A Warrant to be fair -- A Competition in my sense With something hid in Her -- And as she vanishes, Remorse I saw no more of Her.
ContemplatifEmily Dickinson

The inundation of the Spring

The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul -- It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole -- In which the soul at first estranged -- Seeks faintly for its shore But acclimated -- pines no more For that Peninsula --
ContemplatifEmily Dickinson

The Notice that is called the Spring

The Notice that is called the Spring Is but a month from here -- Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep -- The Birds enamor Care -- Our salary the longest Day Is nothing but a Bier.
ContemplatifEmily Dickinson

By homely gift and hindered Words

By homely gift and hindered Words The human heart is told Of Nothing -- "Nothing" is the force That renovates the World --
TristeEmily Dickinson

Absent Place -- an April Day --

Absent Place -- an April Day -- Daffodils a-blow Homesick curiosity To the Souls that snow -- Drift may block within it Deeper than without -- Daffodil delight but Him it duplicate --