Top 100 Poems About: SPRING
Top 100 Poems on / about
- carpe diem
1.A Prayer In Spring
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year. read more »Robert Frost
2.The Spring And The Fall
In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
The trees were black where the bark was wet.
I see them yet, in the spring of the year. read more »Edna St. Vincent Millay
3.A Light Exists In Spring
A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here read more »Emily Dickinson
4.Spring And Fall: To A Young Child
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? read more »Gerard Manley Hopkins
These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, read more »Robert Frost
6.Spring And All
By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast -- a cold wind. Beyond, the read more »William Carlos Williams
7.Spring, The Sweet Spring
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! read more »Thomas Nashe
Sound the flute!
Now it's mute!
Day and night, read more »William Blake
To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily. read more »Edna St. Vincent Millay
10.Paris In Spring
The city's all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done. read more »Sara Teasdale
11.First Day Of Spring
First day of spring--
I keep thinking about
the end of autumn. read more »Matsuo Basho
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses, read more »Rainer Maria Rilke