Thread: Poetry Corner

  1. #1

    Poetry Corner

    Post poems that you like here in this thread. ...No war poems please !

    My Symphony

    To live content with small means;,
    To seek elegance rather than luxury,
    And refinement rather than fashion;
    To be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not, rich;
    To study hard, think quietly,
    Talk gently,
    Act frankly;
    To listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart;
    To bear all cheerfully,
    Do all bravely,
    Await occasions,
    Hurry Never.
    In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common.
    This is my symphony.

    — William Henry Channing (1810 -1884)

  2. #2
    Forums Member
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    Mar 2017
    Abou Ben Adhem by Leigh Hunt

    Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
    Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
    And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
    Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
    An angel writing in a book of gold:—
    Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
    And to the presence in the room he said,
    "What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,
    And with a look made of all sweet accord,
    Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
    "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
    Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
    But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
    Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

    The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
    It came again with a great wakening light,
    And showed the names whom love of God had blest,
    And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

  3. #3
    I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

    by William Wordsworth

    I wandered lonely as a cloud
    That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
    When all at once I saw a crowd,
    A host, of golden daffodils;
    Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
    Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

    Continuous as the stars that shine
    And twinkle on the milky way,
    They stretched in never-ending line
    Along the margin of a bay:
    Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
    Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

    The waves beside them danced; but they
    Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
    A poet could not but be gay,
    In such a jocund company:
    I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
    What wealth the show to me had brought:

    For oft, when on my couch I lie
    In vacant or in pensive mood,
    They flash upon that inward eye
    Which is the bliss of solitude;
    And then my heart with pleasure fills,
    And dances with the daffodils.

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