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Nature Poems Page #1,157

Displaying 29,072 poems from the Nature genre.

Baby's Trotting Song
— Clara Doty Bates
[Daintily] Come, see how the ladies ride, All so pretty, all so gay, In their beauty, in their pride, Down Broadway; Prancing horses silver shod, Al...
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And the last song dedication to the baby (who's hiding from me).
— Nobody Nose
[Intro] Watch out! [Verse 1] I see you on the street, and you walk on by You make me wanna hang my head down and cry If you gave me half a chance You'd...
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After The Death Of Vittoria Colonna. After Sunset.
— Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni
Be' mi dove'. Well might I in those days so fortunate, What time the sun lightened my path above, Have soared from earth to heaven, raised by he...
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After The Death Of Vittoria Colonna. Love's Triumph Over Death.
— Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni
Quand' el ministro de' sospir. When she who was the source of all my sighs, Fled from the world, herself, my straining sight, Nature who gave us...
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Dave Lilly
— Alfred Joyce Kilmer
There's a brook on the side of Greylock that used to be full of trout, But there's nothing there now but minnows; they say it is all fished out. I fishe...
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Beachville.
— James McIntyre
Of Beachville, village of the plain, We now will sing a short refrain, For here the Thames doth pleasant flow, And charm to landscape doth bestow; Thoug...
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A Phylactery.
— John Milton Hay
Wise men I hold those rakes of old Who, as we read in antique story, When lyres were struck and wine was poured, Set the white Death's Head on the board...
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A Visit To Renelagh
— Robert Bloomfield
To Ranelagh, once in my life, By good-natur'd force I was driv'n; The nations had ceas'd their long strife, And PEACE beam'd her radiance from Heav'n. W...
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A Concert of Birds
— William Browne
The mounting lark (day's herald) got on wing, Bidding each bird choose out his bough and sing. The lofty treble sung the little wren; Robin the mean, th...
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A Woman in Hospital
— Fay Inchfawn
I know it all . . . I know. For I am God. I am Jehovah, He Who made you what you are; and I can see The tears that wet your pillow night by night, When ...
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A Word To Two Young Ladies.
— Robert Bloomfield
WHEN tender Rose-trees first receive On half-expanded Leaves, the Shower; Hope's gayest pictures we believe, And anxious watch each coining flower. ...
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A Protestant Irishman To His Wife.
— Thomas Frederick Young
"Just forty years to-day, my dear, We sail'd from Irish waters, And bade farewell, with many a tear, To Erin's sons and daughters. "You'll recollect...
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And one from Mina
— Nobody Nose
Amor mio, basto io grandi braccia e grandi mani avrò per te stretto al mio seno freddo non avrai no tu non tremerai, non tremerai. Amor mio, basto io la...
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A Winter Night.
— John Milton Hay
The winter wind is raving fierce and shrill, And chides with angry moan the frosty skies; The white stars gaze with sleepless Gorgon eyes That freeze th...
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A Sabbath Morning In The Country.
— Thomas Frederick Young
'Tis morning, and the meadows yet, Are wet with gracious drops of dew. Each blade of grass, and flow'r, is set With sparkling gems of richest hue. The s...
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A Song Of Dreams
— Clark Ashton Smith
A voice came to me from the night, and said, What profit hast thou in thy dreaming Of the years that are set And the years yet unrisen? Hast thou found ...
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Anthony O'Daly
— James Stephens
Since your limbs were laid out The stars do not shine, The fish leap not out In the waves. On our meadows the dew Does not fall in the morn, For O'Daly ...
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A Sunset.
— Thomas Frederick Young
"Oh come," said I unto my love, "And let us view the setting sun, And watch the fleeting clouds above, So brightly color'd, ev'ry one." Thus lightly...
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Letter IV. From A Young Nightingale To A Wren. (The Bird And Insects' Post-Office.)
— Robert Bloomfield
Dated "Home Wood." NEIGHBOUR, When we last met you seemed very lively and agreeable, but you asked an abundance of questions, and particularly w...
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Chant To Sirius
— Clark Ashton Smith
What nights retard thee, O Sirius! Thy light is as a spear, And thou penetratest them As a warrior that stabbeth his foe Even to the center of his life....
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Autumn
— William Browne
Autumn it was when droop'd the sweetest flow'rs, And rivers, swoll'n with pride, o'erlook'd the banks; Poor grew the day of summer's golden hours, And v...
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Letter VI. From The Wild Duck To The Tame Duck. (The Bird And Insects' Post-Office.)
— Robert Bloomfield
Dated Lincoln and Ely Fens. DEAR COUSIN, I suppose I must call you so, though I declare I know not how we are related. But, though I am thought ...
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Finis
— Clark Ashton Smith
It seemed that from the west The live red flame of sunset, Eating the dead blue sky And cold insensate peaks, Was loosened slowly, and fell. Above it, a...
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A Visit From St. Nicholas.
— Clement Clarke Moore
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with c...
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A Letter From Artemesia In The Town To Chloe In The Country
— John Wilmot
Chloe, In verse by your command I write. Shortly you'll bid me ride astride, and fight: These talents better with our sex agree Than lofty flights o...
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Who wrote the poem "Dreams"?
  • A. John Donne
  • B. Gerard Manley Hopkins
  • C. Thomas Hardy
  • D. Langston Hughes