Menella Bute Smedley

(1820-1877 / England)

Menella Bute Smedley Poems

1. A Face From The Past 9/3/2010
2. A Fancy 9/3/2010
3. A Girl's Love Song 9/3/2010
4. A Letter 9/3/2010
5. A Meeting 9/3/2010
6. A North Pole Story 9/3/2010
7. A Plea For Beauty 9/3/2010
8. A Prayer For One Beloved 9/3/2010
9. A Remembrance 9/3/2010
10. A Sea-Side Fancy 9/3/2010
11. A Slight Confusion 9/3/2010
12. Ampola 9/3/2010
13. An Anniversary 9/3/2010
14. April Showers 9/3/2010
15. Birds 9/3/2010
16. Bishop Patteson 9/3/2010
17. Bruce And Douglas 9/3/2010
18. Cavour 9/3/2010
19. Children On The Shore 9/3/2010
20. Coeur De Lion And His Horse 9/3/2010
21. Copernicus 9/3/2010
22. Crowns For Children 9/3/2010
23. Deaf And Dumb 9/3/2010
24. Disobedience 9/3/2010
25. Earl Strongbow 9/3/2010
26. Eremos And Eudæmon 9/3/2010
27. Evening 9/3/2010
28. Feeding The Fairies 9/3/2010
29. For Music 9/3/2010
30. Francis The First At Liberty 9/3/2010
31. Garibaldi At Varignano 9/3/2010
32. Garibaldi Impeached 9/3/2010
33. Granmamma And The Fairies 9/3/2010
34. Grizzel Hume 9/3/2010
35. He Preached To The Spirits In Prison 9/3/2010
36. Heroes 9/3/2010
37. Hunting The Wind 9/3/2010
38. I Went To Look For Roses 9/3/2010
39. In The Fields 9/3/2010
40. In The Meantime 9/3/2010

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Best Poem of Menella Bute Smedley

The Fisherman's Wife

The wind bloweth wildly; she stands on the shore;
She shudders to hear it, and will evermore.
The rush of the waves, as they rose and they fell,
Evermore to her fancy will sound like a knell!

“When, mother, dear mother, will father return?
His supper is ready,—the sticks brightly burn;
His chair is beside them, with dry shoes and coat,
I'm longing to kiss him,—Oh, where is the boat?
“Why does he not come with his fish on his arm?
He must want his supper,—he cannot be warm;
I'll stroke his cold cheek, with his wet hair I'll play,
I want so to kiss him,—Oh, ...

Read the full of The Fisherman's Wife

A Bird's-Eye View

Quoth the boy, “I'll climb that tree,
And bring down a nest I know.”
Quoth the girl, “I will not see
Little birds defrauded so.
Cowardly their nests to take,
And their little hearts to break,
And their little eggs to steal.
Leave them happy for my sake,—
Surely little birds can feel!”

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