Famous Nature Poems - Page 3
-
41. Spring
Famous Poem
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowersFeatured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
42. The Music Of The Trees
Famous Poem
How I love to hear the rustle of the leaves upon the trees
When the foliage of summer is a moving in the breeze
When the oak and beech and maple are a tuning up the air
As they hear the quaking aspen sending signals everywhere.
The deciduous forest people are a music making band
With their symphonies so simple that a child can understand
For there's meaning in their rhythm and a pleasure 'mong the trees
When the wind is blowing through them and a stirring all the leaves.
There's an overture in whispers which is soothing to the ear
Then a chorus full of comfort just a chasing out your fear
As the louder it is sounding and the louder yet again
Till at last are joys abounding when it falls in sweet refrain.
Yes, it brings you heaps of solace when the wind is blowing soft
In a lullaby of nature which will bear you way aloft
Till you leave this world of trouble with its fretting and its care
As you listen to the rustle of the leaves a playing there.
O, I love to stop and hearken to the music of the trees
As the wind is soughing through them or a playing with the leaves
There's a harmony that holds you in the noises of the wood
Where I never tire of listening for it does a fellow good.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
43. There Will Come Soft Rains (War Time)
Famous Poem
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
44. The Mountain
Famous Poem
The mountain sat upon the plain
In his eternal chair,
His observation omnifold,
His inquest everywhere.
The seasons prayed around his knees,
Like children round a sire:
Grandfather of the days is he,
Of dawn the ancestor.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
45. The Sandpiper
Famous Poem
Across the lonely beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I,
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I.
Above our heads the sullen clouds
Scud, black and swift, across the sky;
Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds
Stand out the white lighthouses high.
Almost as far as eye can reach
I see the close-reefed vessels fly,
As fast we flit along the beach,
One little sandpiper and I.
I watch him as he skims along,
Uttering his sweet and mournful cry;
He starts not at my fitful song,
Nor flash of fluttering drapery.
He has no thought of any wrong,
He scans me with a fearless eye;
Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong,
The little sandpiper and I.
Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night,
When the loosed storm breaks furiously?
My driftwood fire will burn so bright!
To what warm shelter canst thou fly?
I do not fear for thee, though wroth
The tempest rushes through the sky;
For are we not God's children both,
Thou, little sandpiper, and I?Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
46. The Wind And The Leaves
Famous Poem
"Come, little leaves," said the wind one day.
"Come o'er the meadows with me, and play'
Put on your dress of red and gold,—
Summer is gone, and the days grow cold."
Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the soft little songs they knew.
"Cricket, good-by, we've been friends so long;
Little brook, sing us your farewell song,—
Say you are sorry to see us go;
Ah! you will miss us, right well we know."
"Dear little lambs, in your fleecy fold,
Mother will keep you from harm and cold;
Fondly we've watched you in vale and glade;
Say, will you dream of our loving shade?"
Dancing and whirling, the little leaves went;
Winter had called them, and they were content.
Soon fast asleep in their earthy beds,
The snow laid a coverlet over their heads.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
47. The End Of The Summer
Famous Poem
The birds laugh loud and long together
When Fashion's followers speed away
At the first cool breath of autumn weather.
Why, this is the time, cry the birds, to stay!
When the deep calm sea and the deep sky over
Both look their passion through sun-kissed space,
As a blue-eyed maid and her blue-eyed lover
Might each gaze into the other's face.
Oh! this is the time when careful spying
Discovers the secrets Nature knows.
You find when the butterflies plan for flying
(Before the thrush or the blackbird goes),
You see some day by the water's edges
A brilliant border of red and black;
And then off over the hills and hedges
It flutters away on the summer's track.
The shy little sumacs, in lonely places,
Bowed all summer with dust and heat,
Like clean-clad children with rain-washed faces,
Are dressed in scarlet from head to feet.
And never a flower had the boastful summer,
In all the blossoms that decked her sod,
So royal hued as that later comer
The purple chum of the goldenrod.
Some chill grey dawn you note with grieving
That the King of Autumn is on his way.
You see, with a sorrowful, slow believing,
How the wanton woods have gone astray,
They wear the stain of bold caresses,
Of riotous revels with old King Frost;
They dazzle all eyes with their gorgeous dresses,
Nor care that their green young leaves are lost.
A wet wind blows from the East one morning,
The wood's gay garments looked draggled out.
You hear a sound, and your heart takes warning―
The birds are planning their winter route.
They wheel and settle and scold and wrangle,
Their tempers are ruffled, their voices loud;
Then whirr and away in a feathered tangle,
To fade in the south like a passing cloud.
Envoi
A songless wood stripped bare of glory―
A sodden moor that is black and brown;
The year has finished its last love-story:
Oh! let us away to the gay bright town.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
48. The Woodpecker
Famous Poem
The woodpecker pecked out a little round hole
And made him a house in the telephone pole.
One day when I watched he poked out his head,
And he had on a hood and a collar of red.
When the streams of rain pour out of the sky,
And the sparkles of lightning go flashing by,
And the big, big wheels of thunder roll,
He can snuggle back in the telephone pole.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
49. Snow-Flakes
Famous Poem
Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
50. Early Summer
Famous Poem
Full of joy is early Summer,
Growth and warmth and golden light;
Every day is crowned with beauty,
Full of loveliness the night.
Dazzling sunshine brings the roses,
Fills the whole bright world with bloom;
Day and night rejoice together,
Banished now are doubt and gloom.
Skies serene and loving woo us
To the woods and fields to-day;
Who would linger long when Nature
Calls him to her feast away?
Earth a veritable Eden
In the glowing sunlight gleams,
Life a grand and noble epic,
Viewed from such a standpoint seems.
Gladness reigns the wide world over,
Early Summer's golden light
Fills each bosom with thanksgiving
For the season's blessings bright.
Happy harvest days are coming,
Full of joy, throughout the land;
Where the fields of grain are waving,
Full-eared wheat in shocks shall stand.
Perfect days that pass too quickly,
One by one they come and go,
Each in turn reveals rare blessing,
Beauty passing all below.
Balmy air and bright green landscape,
Glowing eve and dewy dawn;
Sunlight's gold on field and forest—
We shall grieve when these are gone.
Joyous time to him that loveth
Growth and warmth and golden light;
Day is full of blessed beauty,
Full of peace the dewy night.
Early Summer! time of roses,
All the earth is filled with bloom;
Every heart in thee rejoices,
Banished now are doubt and gloom.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
51. November
Famous Poem
The leaves are fading and falling,
The winds are rough and wild,
The birds have ceased their calling,
But let me tell, you my child,
Though day by day, as it closes,
Doth darker and colder grow,
The roots of the bright red roses
Will keep alive in the snow.
And when the Winter is over,
The boughs will get new leaves,
The quail come back to the clover,
And the swallow back to the eaves.
The robin will wear on his bosom
A vest that is bright and new,
And the loveliest way-side blossom
Will shine with the sun and dew.
The leaves to-day are whirling,
The brooks are all dry and dumb,
But let me tell, you my darling,
The Spring will be sure to come.
There must be rough, cold weather,
And winds and rains so wild;
Not all good things together
Come to us here, my child.
So, when some dear joy loses
Its beauteous summer glow,
Think how the roots of the roses
Are kept alive in the snow.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
52. Winter Woods
Famous Poem
The winter wood is like a strong old man,
Grizzled, rugged, and gray,
With long white locks tattered by many storms.
He lifts gnarled arms defiant of the blasts,
And rears his old head proudly
Under the menace of the winter sky.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
53. Spring Fever
Famous Poem
When a feller feels a longing
For the medder in his breast.
When the robins north are thronging,
Where they haste to build their nest.
When the frogs peep in the puddle
Where I love to hear them sing,
Then my brain is in a muddle,
For I know it's really spring.
When the double windows smother
Us until we want more air;
When a protest comes and mother
Can't endure them longer there;
When we ope the cellar shutters,
Kitchen doors are on the swing,
Clean the cisterns, fix the gutters―
Then I know its truly spring.
When the wild ducks and geese are going
Northward, "dragging" as they fly;
When the streams are overflowing,
And a rainbow gilds the sky;
When the plowman turns the stubble
Where the bluebirds sweetly sing,
When comes carpet-beating trouble,
Then I'm confident it's spring.
When the jack-torch men are spearing
Silver suckers in the brook,
And the angleworms appearing.
Seem quite anxious for my hook;
When the mellow sunlights beckon
Till the mill wheel starts to sing,
Then's the time the fish, I reckon,
'Spect to see me―Come! It's spring!Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
54. The Golden Sunset
Famous Poem
The golden sea its mirror spreads
Beneath the golden skies,
And but a narrow strip between
Of earth and shadow lies.
The cloud-like cliffs, the cliff-like clouds,
Dissolved in glory, float,
And midway of the radiant floods
Hangs silently the boat.
The sea is but another sky,
The sky a sea as well,
And which is earth and which the heavens
The eye can scarcely tell.
So when for me life's latest hour
Soft passes to its end,
May glory, born of earth and heaven,
The earth and heaven blend.
Flooded with light the spirits float,
With silent rapture glow,
Till where earth ends and heaven begins
The soul shall scarcely know.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
55. My Heart's In The Highlands
Famous Poem
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Farewell to the mountains, high-cover'd with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
56. June In Maine
Famous Poem
Beautiful, beautiful summer!
Odorous, exquisite June!
All the sweet roses in blossom,
All the sweet birdies in tune.
Dew on the meadows at sunset;
Gems on the meadows at morn;
Melody hushing the evening;
Melody greeting the dawn.
All the dim aisles of the forest
Ringing and thrilling with song;
Music—a flood-tide of music—
Poured the green valleys along.
Rapturous creatures of beauty.
Winging their way through the sky,
Heavenward warble their praises—
Mount our thanksgivings as high?
Lo! when a bird is delighted,
His ecstacy prompts him to soar;
The greater, the fuller his rapture,
His songs of thanksgiving the more.
See how the winds from the mountains
Sweep over meadows most fair;
The green fields are tossed like the ocean,
Are shadowed by clouds in the air.
For now fleecy shadows are chasing
The sunshine from woodland and vale,
As white clouds come gathering slowly,
Blown up by the sweet-scented gale
Birds and the gales and the flowers
Call us from study away,
Out to the fields where the mowers
Soon will be making the hay.
Buttercups, daisies, and clover,
Roses, sweet-briar, and fern,
Mingle their breath on the breezes—
Who from such wooing could turn?
Out! to the heath and the mountain,
Where mid the fern and the brake,
Under the pines and the spruces,
Fragrant the bower we will make.
Ravishing voices of Nature,
Ye conquer—and never too soon—
We yield to thy luscious embraces,
Thou odorous, exquisite June!Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
-
57. Dear March - Come In -
Famous Poem
Dear March—Come in—
How glad I am—
I hoped for you before—
Put down your Hat—
You must have walked—
How out of Breath you are—
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest—
Did you leave Nature well—
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me—
I have so much to tell—
I got your Letter, and the Birds—
The Maples never knew that you were coming—
I declare - how Red their Faces grew—
But March, forgive me—
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue—
There was no Purple suitable—
You took it all with you—
Who knocks? That April—
Lock the Door—
I will not be pursued—
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied—
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come
That blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame—Featured Shared StoryNo Stories yet, You can be the first!
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement