Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomePoemsThere Is No Sadness Here. Oh, That My Heart
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
There Is No Sadness Here. Oh, That My Heart Post by :commocheck Category :Poems Author :Charles Sangster Date :September 2011 Read :873

Click below to download : There Is No Sadness Here. Oh, That My Heart (Format : PDF)

There Is No Sadness Here. Oh, That My Heart

There is no sadness here. Oh, that my heart
Were calm and peaceful as these dreamy groves!
That all my hopes and passions, and deep loves,
Could sit in such an atmosphere of peace,
Where no unholy impulses would start
Responsive to the throes that never cease
To keep my spirit in such wild unrest.
'Tis only in the struggling human breast
That the true sorrow lives. Our fruitful joys
Have stony kernels hidden in their core.
Life in a myriad phases passeth here,
And death as various--an equal poise;
Yet all is but a solemn change--no more;
And not a sound save joy pervades the atmosphere.





(The end)
Charles Sangster's poem: There Is No Sadness Here. Oh, That My Heart

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

The Fog The Fog

The Fog
Out of the lamp-bestarred and clouded dusk-- Snaring, illuding, concealing, Magically conjuring-- Turning to fairy-coaches Beetle-backed limousines Scampering under the great Arch-- Making a decoy of blue overalls And mystery of a scarlet shawl-- Indolently-- Knowing no impediment of its sure advance-- Descends the fog.(The end)Lola Ridge's poem: Fog
PREVIOUS BOOKS

I've Almost Grown A Portion Of This Place I've Almost Grown A Portion Of This Place

I've Almost Grown A Portion Of This Place
I've almost grown a portion of this place, I seem familiar with each mossy stone; Even the nimble chipmunk passes on, And looks, but never scolds me. Birds have flown And almost touched my hand; and I can trace The wild bees to their hives. I've never known So sweet a pause from labour. But the tone Of a past sorrow, like a mournful rill Threading the heart of some melodious hill,
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT