19th-Century Poetry

DPF / Rossetti

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For birthdays and for my birthday today, from poetryfoundation.org.

from A Birthday / by Christina Rossetti

Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
                  And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
                  In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys

 

DPF / Bryant

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For frozen mist and wavering flakes, from poetryfoundation.org.

from The Snow-Shower / by William Cullen Bryant

Here delicate snow-stars, out of the cloud,
   Come floating downward in airy play,
Like spangles dropped from the glistening crowd
   That whiten by night the milky way

DPF / Williams

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For sugar and mysteries, from poetryfoundation.org.

from To Mrs. K_____, On Her Sending Me an English Christmas Plum-Cake at Paris / by Helena Maria Williams (1761-1827)

For magic surely lurks in this,
A cake that tells of vanished bliss;

DPF / Teasdale

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For stars and wise men, from poetryfoundation.org.

from Christmas Carol / by Sara Teasdale

The angels came from heaven high
And they were clad with wings;
And lo, they brought a joyful song
The host of heaven sings.

DPF / Neale

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For the season, from the 19th century, and from poetryfoundation.org.

from Good King Wenceslas / by John Mason Neale (1818–1866)

Good King Wenceslas look’d out,
    On the Feast of Stephen;
When the snow lay round about,
    Deep, and crisp, and even:
Brightly shone the moon that night,
    Though the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight,
    Gath’ring winter fuel.

DPF / Taylor

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For the millions of them, from poetryfoundation.org.

from Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star / by Ann Taylor (1783–1824 )

TWINKLE, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are !
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

DPF / Holmes

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For firmament and fire, from poetryfoundation.org and 19th-Century American Poetry.

from The Flâneur / by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

I leave my mortal self below,
As up the star-lit stairs I climb,
And still the widening view reveals
In endless rounds the circling wheels
That build the horologe of time.

DPF / Converse

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For vines and divines, from poetryfoundation.org.

from The Thanksgivings / by Harriet Maxwell Converse (1836–1903)

We thank Him for his goodness in making the forests, and thank
          all its trees.
We thank Him for the darkness that gives us rest, and for the kind Being
          of the darkness that gives us light, the moon.
We thank Him for the bright spots in the skies that give us signs,
          the stars.