Anonymous Short Poems
Famous Short Anonymous Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Anonymous. A collection of the all-time best Anonymous short poems
by
Anonymous
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16328/16328-h/16328-h.htm
by
Anonymous
When the win-ter winds are blow-ing,
And we ga-ther glad and gay,
Where the fire its light is throw-ing,
For a mer-ry game at play,
There is none that to my know-ing,—
And I've play-ed at games enough,—
Makes us laugh, and sets us glow-ing
Like a game at Blind-man's Buff.
by
Anonymous
Morn amid the mountains,
Lovely solitude,
Gushing streams and fountains,
Murmur, “God is good.
”Now the glad sun, breaking,
Pours a golden flood;
Deepest vales awaking,
Echo, “God is good.
”Wake and join the chorus,
Man with soul endued!
He, whose smile is o’er us,
God,—our God,—is good.
by
Anonymous
There’s a nest in the hedge-row,
Half bid by the leaves,
And the sprays, white with blossom,
Bend o’er it like eaves.
God gives birds their lodging,
He gives them their food,
And they trust He will give them
Whatever is good.
Ah! when our rich blessings,
My child, we forget;
When for some little trouble
We murmur and fret;Hear sweet voices singing
In hedges and trees:
Shall we be less thankful,
Less trustful than these?
[Pg 030]
by
Anonymous
This lit-tle Lamb was brought to Nell
The day its old ewe mo-ther died,
And, now it knows and loves her well,
It will not go from Nel-ly's side.
A-long the hall, and up the stair,
You hear its lit-tle pat-ter-ing toes:
Her Pet will fol-low every-where
A-bout the house, where Nel-ly goes.
by
Anonymous
God intrusts to all
Talents, few or many;
None so young or small,
That they have not any.
[Pg 035]
Though the great and wise
May have more in number,
Yet my own I prize,
And they must not slumber.
Little drops of rain.
Bring the springing flowers;
And I may attain
Much by little powers.
Every little mite,
Every little measure,
Helps to spread the light,
Helps to swell the treasure.
by
Anonymous
I want to be like Jesus,
So lowly and so meek;
For no one marked an angry word,
Whoever heard him speak.
I want to be like Jesus,
So frequently in prayer;
Alone upon the mountain top,
He met his Father there.
I want to be like Jesus:
I never, never find,
That he, though persecuted, was
To any one unkind.
I want to be like Jesus,
Engaged in doing good;
So that of me it may be said,
I have done what I could.
by
Emily Dickinson
Superfluous were the Sun
When Excellence be dead
He were superfluous every Day
For every Day be said
That syllable whose Faith
Just saves it from Despair
And whose "I'll meet You" hesitates
If Love inquire "Where"?
Upon His dateless Fame
Our Periods may lie
As Stars that drop anonymous
From an abundant sky.
by
Anonymous
Lo! the heavens are breaking,
Pure and bright above;
Light and life awaking,
Murmur, “God is love.
”Music now is ringing,
Through the leafy grove,
Feathered songsters, singing,
Warble, “God is love.
”Wake, my heart, and springing,
Spread thy wings above;
Soaring still, and singing,—
Singing, “God is love.
”
[Pg 007]
by
Anonymous
“See, the stars are coming
In the far blue skies;
Mother, look! they brighten;
Are they angels’ eyes?”“No, my child; the lustre
Of the stars is given,
Like the hues of flowers,
By the God of heaven.
”“Mother, if I study,
Sure He’ll make me know
[Pg 036]
Why the stars He kindled,
O’er our earth to glow?”“Child! what God created,
Has a glorious aim;
Thine it is to worship,—
Thine to love His name.
”
by
Anonymous
Ah! little lark, I see you there,
So very, very high;
Just like a little, tiny speck
Up in the clear blue sky.
How good is He, who strengthens thus
Your slight and tender wing,
And teaches such a little throat
So sweet a song to sing.
by
Anonymous
Teach us to pray
Oh, Father! we look up to Thee,
And this our one request shall be,
Teach us to pray.
Teach us to pray.
A form of words will not suffice,—
The heart must bring its sacrifice:
Teach us to pray.
Teach us to pray.
To whom shall we, Thy children, turn?
Teach Thou the lesson we would learn:
Teach us to pray.
Teach us to pray.
To Thee, alone, our hearts look up:
Prayer is our only door of hope;
Teach us to pray.
by
Emily Dickinson
I sometimes drop it, for a Quick --
The Thought to be alive --
Anonymous Delight to know --
And Madder -- to conceive --
Consoles a Woe so monstrous
That did it tear all Day,
Without an instant's Respite --
'Twould look too far -- to Die --