He Prayeth Best

by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Farewell, farewell! but this I tell
To thee, thou Wedding-Guest!
He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small:
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.

These two stanzas, the very heart of that great poem, "The Ancient Mariner," by (1772-1834), sum up the lesson of this masterpiece--"Insensibility is a crime."

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Every Saturday is Poetry Day here at the Literature Daily blog. Tomorrow look for another installment from the great Arab book Thousand and One Nights.

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Little Things

by Ebenezer Cobham Brewer

Little drops of water
, Little grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean
And the pleasant land.

Thus the little minutes,
Humble though they be,
Make the mighty ages
Of eternity.

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Every Saturday is Poetry Day here at the Literature Daily blog. Tomorrow look for another installment from the great Arab book Thousand and One Nights.

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Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite

by

Let dogs delight to bark and bite,
For God hath made them so;
Let bears and lions growl and fight,
For 'tis their nature too.

But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
To tear each other's eyes.

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Every Saturday is Poetry Day here at the Literature Daily blog. Tomorrow look for another installment from the great Arab book Thousand and One Nights.

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The Babie

by Jeremiah Eames Rankin

Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes,
Nae stockin' on her feet;
Her supple ankles white as snaw,
Or early blossoms sweet.

Her simple dress o' sprinkled pink,
Her double, dimplit chin,
Her puckered lips, and baumy mou',
With na ane tooth within.

Her een sae like her mither's een,
Twa gentle, liquid things;
Her face is like an angel's face:
We're glad she has nae wings.

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Every Saturday is Poetry Day here at the Literature Daily blog. Tomorrow look for another installment from the great Arab book Thousand and One Nights.

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The Arrow and the Song

by Henry W. Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

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Every Saturday is Poetry Day here at the Literature Daily blog. Tomorrow look for another installment from the great Arab book Thousand and One Nights.

More information here:

Check the right column

More poems