when - Popular Poems and stories from category

When I was fair and young, then favor graced me
Of many was I sought their mistress for to be
But I did scorn them all and answered them therefore:
Go, go, go, seek some other where; importune me no more

When I set out for Lyonnesse, A hundred miles away, The rime was on the spray, And starlight lit my lonesomeness When I set out for Lyonnesse A hundred miles away
What would bechance at Lyonnesse While I should sojourn there No prophet durst ...

A five-year old in a Cape Cod village, twenty miles from the rail,
Falmouth,
Falmouth, loveliest Falmouth,
Wearing her silvery, pearl-embroidered ocean mist for a veil;

When all Thy mercies,
O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view,

When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning -returning spring
trinity sure to me you bring;

He, when young Spring protrudes the bursting gems,
Into his freshened soul; her genial
He full enjoys; and not a beauty
And not an opening blossom breathes in vain

This is the way that autumn came to the trees:it stripped them down to the skin,left their ebony bodies naked
It shook out their hearts, the yellow leaves,scattered them over the ground
Anyone could trample them out of shapeundisturbed b...

EN the leaves fall off the trees Everybody walks on them :
Once they had a time of ease High above, and every breeze Used to stay and talk to them
Then they were so debonair As they fluttered up and down ;
Dancing in the sunny air,

The winds that on the uplands softly lie,
Grow keener where the ice is lingering
Where the first robin on the sheltered
Pipes blithely to the tune, "When Spring goes by

I climbed up the karaka
Into a nest all made of
But soft as feathers
I made up a song that went on singing all by

When I have passed away and am forgotten, And no one living can recall my face,
When under alien sod my bones lie rotten With not a tree or stone to mark the place;
Perchance a pensive youth, with passion burning, For olden verse that sm...

When I was a boy a god would often rescue me from the shouting and violence of humans
Then, safe and well,
I would play with the meadow flowers, and heaven's breezes would play with me
And as you delight the heart of plants, stretch...