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You are now in the place where we share poems of well-known poets, often from the list “Best Poems” and “Best Poets”. Due to copyright we only present the poems of those poets who passed away some time ago and therefore, you will not find poems of contemporary poets here. We invite you to familiarise yourself with the poems about Happiness available here and we hope you will enjoy reading. The poems about Happiness found here you can easily add to the free ecards from our site, and then send ecards to friends. Best Happiness poems for you.

A happy lip breaks sudden



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A happy lip — breaks sudden —
It doesn't state you how
It contemplated — smiling —
Just consummated — now —
But this one, wears its merriment
So patient — like a pain —
Fresh gilded — to elude the eyes
Unqualified, to scan —

Poems by Emily Dickinson

Ah, now this happy month is gone



Ah, now this happy month is gone,
Not now, my heart, complain,
Nor rail at Time because so soon
He takes his own again.

He takes his own, the weeks, the hours,
But leaves the best with thee;
Seeds of imperishable flowers
In fields of memory.

Poems by Robert Laurence Binyon

Aims At Happiness



How oft has sounded whip and wheel,
How oft is buckled spur to heel,
How many a steed in short relay
Stands harnessed on the king's highway,
How many a pleasure-freighted sail
Has danced before a summer gale,
How oft along the dusty road
The long machine has borne its load,
How many a step !--and all to find
What has no place but in the mind,
(Unbound to ocean, earth, or air
And he who does not find it there,
For what he seeks would vainly look,
Though steersman made to Captain Cook.

Panting for pleasure never yet possessed,
Since restless man first sought an earthly rest,
Felix projected many a fair essay,...

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Poems by Jane Taylor

Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters



Most happy letters, fram'd by skilful trade,
With which that happy name was first design'd:
The which three times thrice happy hath me made,
With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind.
The first my being to me gave by kind,
From mother's womb deriv'd by due descent,
The second is my sovereign Queen most kind,
That honour and large richesse to me lent.
The third my love, my life's last ornament,
By whom my spirit out of dust was raised:
To speak her praise and glory excellent,
Of all alive most worthy to be praised.
Ye three Elizabeths for ever live,
That three such graces did unto me give.

Poems by Edmund Spenser

Annus Memorabilis : Written in Commemoration of His Majesty's Happy Recovery



I ransack'd for a theme of song,
Much ancient chronicle, and long;
I read of bright embattled fields,
Of trophied helmets, spears, and shields,
Of chiefs, whose single arm could boast
Prowess to dissipate a host;
Through tomes of fable and of dream
I sought an eligible theme,
But none I found, or found them shared
Already by some happier bard.
To modern times, with truth to guide
My busy search, I next applied;
Here cities won, and fleets dispersed,
Urged loud a claim to be rehearsed,
Deeds of unperishing renown,
Our fathers’ triumphs and our own.
Thus as the bee, from bank to bower,...

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Poems by William Cowper

ASTRA REDUX. A Poem, on the Happy Restoration and Return of His Sacred Majesty, Charles the Second



Now with a general peace the world was blest,
While ours, a world divided from the rest,
A dreadful quiet felt, and worser far
Than arms, a sullen interval of war.
Thus when black clouds draw down the lab'ring skies,
Ere yet abroad the winged thunder flies,
An horrid stillness first invades the ear,
And in that silence we the tempest fear.
The ambitious Swede, like restless billows tost,
On this hand gaining what on that he lost,
Though in his life he blood and ruin breathed,
To his now guideless kingdom peace bequeathed;
And heaven that seemed regardless of our fate,
For France and Spain did miracles create;
Such mortal quarrels to compose in peace,
As nature bred, and interest did increase.
We sighed to hear the fair Iberian bride...

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Poems by John Dryden

By occasion of the Young Prince his happy birth



At this glad Triumph, when most Poets use
Their quill, I did not bridle up my Muse
For sloth or less devotion. I am one
That can well keep my Holy-dayes at home;
That can the blessings of my King and State
Better in pray'r then poems gratulate;
And in their fortunes bear a loyal part,
Though I no bone-fires light but in my heart.
Truth is, when I receiv'd the first report
Of a new Starre risen and seen at Court;
Though I felt joy enough to give a tongue
Unto a mute, yet duty strook me dumb:
And thus surpriz'd by rumour, at first sight
I held it some allegiance not to write.
For howere Children, unto those that look
Their pedigree in God's, not the Church book,
Fair pledges are of that eternitie...

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Poems by Henry King

Character Of The Happy Warrior



Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he
That every man in arms should wish to be?
—It is the generous Spirit, who, when brought
Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought
Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought:
Whose high endeavours are an inward light
That makes the path before him always bright;
Who, with a natural instinct to discern
What knowledge can perform, is diligent to learn;
Abides by this resolve, and stops not there,
But makes his moral being his prime care;
Who, doomed to go in company with Pain,
And Fear, and Bloodshed, miserable train!
Turns his necessity to glorious gain;
In face of these doth exercise a power
Which is our human nature's highest dower:...

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Poems by William Wordsworth

Going to Him! Happy letter!



Going to Him! Happy letter!
Tell Him —
Tell Him the page I didn't write —
Tell Him — I only said the Syntax —
And left the Verb and the pronoun out —
Tell Him just how the fingers hurried—
Then — how they waded — slow — slow —
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages —
So you could see what moved them so —

Tell Him — it wasn't a Practised Writer —
You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled —
You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you —
As if it held but the might of a child —
You almost pitied it — you — it worked so —
Tell Him — no — you may quibble there...

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Poems by Emily Dickinson

Tags from Poems Happiness


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