Edward Shanks Bright Poems

  • 1.
    Daphne is running, running through the grass,
    The long stalks whip her ankles as she goes.
    I saw the nymph, the god, I saw them pass
    And how a mounting flush of tender rose
    ...
  • 2.
    In silence and in darkness memory wakes
    Her million sheathë"d buds, and breaks
    That day-long winter when the light and noise
    And hard bleak breath of the outward-looking will
    ...
  • 3.
    August is gone and now this is September,
    Softer the sun in a cloudier sky;
    Yellow the leaves grow and apples grow golden,
    Blackberries ripen and hedges undress.
    ...
  • 4.
    Through the closed curtains comes the early sun,
    First a pale finger, preluding the hand.
    Outside more certainly the day's begun,
    Where bright and brighter still the chestnuts stand,
    ...
  • 5.
    I am afraid to-night,
    We are too glad, too gay,
    Our life too sweet, too bright
    To last another day.
    ...
  • 6.
    Infinite peace is hanging in the air,
    Infinite peace is resting on mine eyes,
    That just an hour ago learnt how to bear
    Seeing your body's flaming harmonies.
    ...
  • 7.
    Now would I be in that removë"d place
    Where the dim sunlight hardly comes at all
    And branches of the young trees interlace
    And long swathes of the brambles twine and fall;
    ...
  • 8.
    We're at the world's top now. The hills around
    Stand proud in order with the valleys deep,
    The hills with pastures drest, with tall trees crowned,
    And the low valleys dipt in sunny sleep.
    ...
Total 8 Bright Poems by Edward Shanks

Top 10 most used topics by Edward Shanks

Long 13 Sweet 12 Grass 12 Soft 11 Deep 9 Beneath 9 Heavy 9 Head 8 Bright 8 Golden 8

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Poem of the day

Andrew Lang Poem
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...

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