July's featured poem

  

The Penny Blog's featured  poem for July 2026:

A boat, beneath s sunny sky, by Lewis Carroll

A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July
[...]

(read by Tom O'Bedlam)

https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2013/07/life-is-but-dream.html

Penny's Top 20 / June 2026

 

Penny's Top 20

The most-visited poems on  The Penny Blog in June 2026:

  1.  Song, Trumbull Stickney

  2.  Esthetique du Mal, Wallace Stevens

  3.  Mid-August, Duncan Campbell Scott

  4.  Adlestrop, Edward Thomas

  5.  June, Annette Wynne

  6.  Sketch, F.S. Flint

  7.  The Withered Leaf in June, F.M. MacKeracher

  8.  June Night, Hazel Hall

  9.  Do not go gentle into that good night, Dylan Thomas

10.  The Wind Blows Where It Will, JD Shirk

11.  Romance Novel – Roman, Arthur Rimbaud

12.  June Rain, Richard Aldington

13.  Dandelions, George Sulzbach

14.  The Dance of Death, Jane G. Austin

15.  Silk Diamond, George Sulzbach

16.  Ode to Sport, Pierre de Coubertin

17.  Skating, William Wordsworth

18.  Always There, George J. Dance

19.  Winter Ghost (Taking a Time Out), Will Dockery

20. My Father, Ann Taylor

Source: Blogger, "Stats" 

Appeal / John Frederic Herbin

Crisco 1492,  Great Canadian Flag, Windsor, ON, 2025-06-22.  CC BY SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.

Appeal

Canadians! raise aloft your country’s flag,
Nor low to earth, nor lifeless see it drag.
Up! till each sign in gentle winds unread,
Meets breezes strong, and every fold is spread.
Its place is high, above the feeble gust
That dims its color with a servile dust.
Among the storms, there see it proudly move
The emblem of your country and your love —

Where all its noble length becomes unfurled
By winds that shake the proudest of the world.
Then will the nations read upon its face,
Whatever, once, their country and their race,
One hope and one ambition closely tie

This people to a common destiny.

A bond of kindred makes your pulses beat,
Frank, Saxon, Kelt, with triple force and heat;
Your veins no longer separate currents run,
Your hearts now animate and beat as one.
Oh noble land and nation! growing strong,
One sky and flag is yours, whatever tongue.
To hold and crown your rampart and your hall
With zeal and valour, needs the strength of all.
My countrymen, your fathers’ valiant swords,
Their kings’ decrees, their sages’ golden words,
The world through cycles down have ruled and led —

A rich inheritance comes from the dead.
Their wisdom and their light are for your hand,
Blessed with the rule of this most fruitful land.

Thick years will come, sprung from the seed you sow;
And for those harvest-days that quickly flow,
The nation walks a-field casting the seed
Of worth and power, the future’s urgent need.
The sun of progress shines; and day full blest
And loud with labor from the east and west,
Hangs over you. Across the western sea,
Mankind new-born obeyed its destiny,
Wandering westward like a current’s trend;

In Canada the roadway hath its end.
The marching centuries of tribe and race
Around the earth, on this find halting-place.

Toward either coast the ocean currents glide;
Upon their waves your sailors homeward ride.
No mimic ships are yours, the keels are deep;
Your sons are brave when angry waters leap.
A man is this whose axe doth clear the ground;
And where he smites the forest tumbles round.
This is a warrior, the first to bleed,
The foremost in the rank of noble deed.
At helm, with axe, before the foemen’s guns,
You live and die your fathers’ worthy sons.
Proud of your flag, see! how your praises swing
It straight and clear, to nations heralding.

~~

John Frederic Herbin (1860-1923)

from Canada, and other poems, 1891

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

John Frederic Herbin biography

June / Edgar Guest

June

June is here, the month of roses, month of brides and month of bees,
Weaving garlands for our lassies, whispering love songs in the trees,
Painting scenes of gorgeous splendor, canvases no man could brush,
Changing scenes from early morning till the sunset's crimson flush.

June is here, the month of blossoms, month of roses white and red,
Wet with dew and perfume-laden, nodding wheresoe'er we tread;
Come the bees to gather honey, all the lazy afternoon;
Flowers and lassies, men and meadows, love alike the month of June.

Month of love and month of sunshine, month of happiness and song,
Month that cheers the sad wayfarer as he plods the road along;
Spreading out a velvet carpet, green and yellow, for his feet,
And affording for his rest hours many a cool and sweet retreat.

~~
Edgar Guest (1881-1959)
from Just Folks, 1917

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]

Edgar Guest biography

Tamara Menzies, Bridal Bouquet, 2017. CC0 1.0 public domain, Wikimedia Commons.

The Dance of Death / Jane G. Austin

The Dance of Death

 
And now the old world holds high holiday
And pranks herself in garments brave and gay;
June roses burst from folded buds of May;
The air is full of perfume and of blithe birds' lay.
Come then, my heart, let us fare forth with these,
In all this joy dull sorrow finds surcease;
My sullen lute, beneath these blooming trees
And swept by fingers of the odorous breeze,
Sure thy mute strings will wake to life to-day
And sing to June a blithesome roundelay.

From out the wood there crept a shadow still,
Before it, died the sunshine off the hill;
It swept the lute, and on its icy breath
Faltered a song, a song of Love and Death.

O dance, ye rose-crowned hours of June,
    Beneath the merry sun,
And dance beneath the loving moon
    When jocund day is done.

Bright, bright, the sunshine and the moon
    But bitter black the shade:
Beneath thy roses, blithesome June,
    Are there no dead men laid?

Dim wraiths of dead and buried Junes,
    Sweet dreams and hearts aglow,
Of brighter suns and sweeter moons
    Of hopes dead long ago?

O joyous June, heap high your flowers,
    You cannot hide the graves beneath;
Sing, birds, and dance, ye merry hours,

    Tread with my ghosts the Dance of Death.

With one wild note of rapture or of pain
The lute-strings snapped and all was still again.

~~
Jane G. Austin (1831-1894)
from Through the Year with the Poets: June, 1886

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

FrDr, Danse Macabre (Tallinn), 2016. CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.

[July]

Jane G. Austin biography

Do not go gentle into that good night / Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~~
Dylan Thomas (1914-1954)
from Collected Poems, 1952

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the European Union]

Dylan Thomas biography 

"Do not go gentle into that good night" read by Michael Sheen Courtesy National Theatre.

The Wind Blows Where It Will / JD Shirk

The Wind Blows Where It Will

ICMA, Coin Toss, 2009.

 CC BY-SA 2.0, Wikimedia Commons.

It may have been a memory
Of something long ago
A faded scene, or passing dream
Or just a random thought
It may have been a poet's line
Wrote from a searching heart
A verse or two, that carried through
Thoughts from a long gone time
It may have been the universe
Fate written in the stars
A destiny or fantasy
A cosmic happenstance
It may have been a childhood wish
A dream of hero's fame
A school yard crush, in teenage blush
Remembered through long years
It may be that we'll never know
Or never need to know
Just how we choose, and what we lose
Or win, by fickle fate

~~
JD Shirk, 2024

JD Shirk Poetry

[All rights reserved - used with permission]

JD Shirk biography

The Withered Leaf in June / W.M. MacKeracher

Image by George J. Dance created with

 Grok (xAI). CC0 1.0 public domain.

The Withered Leaf in June

It cannot be; it is not nearly
Midsummer yet, my eye deceives;
But, yes, it is; I see it clearly –
A bit of red among the leaves.

'Tis so with youth: her dearest pleasures
Her fragrant boughs like green leaves deck;
But yet among the green she treasures,
With equal care, some withered speck.

~~

W.M. MacKeracher (1871-1913)

from Songs of a Sophomore, 1892 

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

W.M. MacKeracher biography

June / Annette Wynne

Harry Clarke (1889-1931), from 

Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen, 

1916. Wikimedia Commons.

June

A roof of blue, a carpet green,
And flowers and tall trees between.
The faintest little breezes blowing,
And little tinkling streamlets flowing.
Then if you look
In some small nook,
You'll find the fairies all together
Dancing, for this is their weather!
But be careful when you go —
Lest you fright them, dancing so;
Underneath a broad green stem
One wee piper pipes for them,
Pipes a tiny fairy tune —
"O a fairy month is June" —
A very fairy month is June!

~~
Annette Wynne (1889-1952)

from For Days and Days: A year-round treasury of child verse, 1919

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

[July]

Annette Wynne biography

Sketch / F.S. Flint

Sketch

Gold on her head, and in her heart's heart, gold!
She seems to breathe a rhododendron glow
Of blossoming colour, Fra Angelico
Would love to picture — angels aureoled!

An early Summer in her smiling glance,
The virginal sap and sweetness of her June,
And calm serenity of a crescent moon,
Weaving a glamour where the young leaves dance.

She has too something of unclouded skies
Of day and night about her, blue and dark
In turn, and deep. You see it if you mark
The limpid laughing purity of her eyes.

~~
F.S. Flint (1885-1960)
from In the Net of the Stars, 1909

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]

F.S. Flint biography

"Sketch" read by Nemo. Courtesy LibriVox Audiobooks.

(Poem begins at 29:55)

June Night / Hazel Hall

June Night

The Astrologer of the Nineteenth Century,

 1825. Wikimedia Commons.

Into my room to-night came June,

A band of stars caught up her hair,
And woven of the mist of moon,
And patterned from the leaf-laced air,
Her garments spread a soft perfume
Over the shadows of my room.

But hardly had her coming stirred
My darkness with a hope like dawn,
Or had my anxious silence heard
Her faint footfall, than she was gone.
She went as though with a quick fear
Of the eternal winter here.

~~
Hazel Hall (1886-1924)
from Curtains, 1921

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Hazel Hall biography

June's featured poem

  

The Penny Blog's featured  poem for June 2026:

Adlestrop, by Edward Thomas

Yes, I remember Adlestrop –

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat, the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June

[...]

(read by poet Arthur L. Wood)

https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2015/06/adlestrop-edward-thomas.html

Penny's Top 20 / May 2026

Penny's Top 20

The most-visited poems on  The Penny Blog in May 2026:

  1.  A Road Song in May, Francis Sherman

  2.  God's Grandeur, Gerard Manley Hopkins

  3.  To My Mother, Christina Rossetti

  4.  A Dirge, Amy Levy

  5.  Holy Ghost Cement, AE Reiff

  6.  3 May poems, Annette Wynne

  7.  Afternoon on a Hill, Edna St. Vincent Millay

  8.  Chanson D'Aventure, C.S. Lewis

  9.  The Woods in May, Ellwood Roberts

10.  May, Jane G. Austin

11.  The Waste Land, T.S. Eliot

12.  Dandelions, George Sulzbach

13.  Skating, William Wordsworth

14.  In May, Madison Cawein

15.  Winter Ghost (Taking a Time Out), Will Dockery

16.  Songs to Joannes XIII, Mina Loy

17.  May, George J. Dance

18.  Large Red Man Reading, Wallace Stevens

19.  Vowels, Arthur Rimbaud

20. The Stare's Nest by My Window, W.B. Yeats

Source: Blogger, "Stats" 

In May / Madison Cawein

 

Rolf Dietrich Brecher, Spring, 2018.

CC BY 2.0, Wikimedia Commons.

In May

When you and I in the hills went Maying,
     You and I in the bright May weather,
     The birds, that sang on the boughs together,
There in the green of the woods, kept saying
     All that my heart was saying low,
     ‘I love you! love you!’ soft and low,
          And did you know?
When you and I in the hills went Maying.

There where the brook on its rocks went winking,
     There by its banks where the May had led us,
     Flowers, that bloomed in the woods and meadows,
Azure and gold at our feet, kept thinking
     All that my soul was thinking there,
     ‘I love you! love you!’ softly there
          And did you care?
There where the brook on its rocks went winking.

Whatever befalls through fate’s compelling,
     Should our paths unite or our pathways sever,
     In the Mays to come I shall feel forever
The wildflowers thinking, the wild birds telling,
     In words as soft as the falling dew,
     The love that I keep here still for you,
          Both deep and true,
Whatever befalls through fate’s compelling.

~~
Madison Cawein (1865-1914)
from Myth and Romance, 1899

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Madison Cawein biography

"In May" read for Audiobook Passion.

May / Jane G. Austin

May

Sweet month of Mary, month of May,
What pale pure flowerets strew thy way;
                Bellissima!

Low lilies press about thy feet
With violets changing kisses sweet;
                Dulcissima!

While through the snow that latest lingers
The Mayflower thrusts her fairy fingers;
                Rubentissima!

As though the Virgin's holy mood
Struck tender joys of motherhood;
                Sanctissima!

Even thy moon, so cold and clear,
Shines with a beauty half austere;
                Splendissima!

While chill pure winds from eastern seas
Enfold no dream of tropic breeze;
                Purissima!

.        .        .        .        .        .        .        .

But month of Mary, month of May,
Still with our love we'll strew thy way;
                Bellissima!

For O, sweet maiden of the year,
We cannot choose but hold thee dear;
                Carissima!

~~
Jane G. Austin (1831-1894)
from Through the Year with the Poets: May, 1886

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Bart Everson, Wildflowers – New Orleans May 2021. CC BY 2.0, Wikimedia Commons.

[June]

Jane G. Austin biography

A Dirge / Amy Levy

A Dirge

Rhoda Baer, Woman Staring out Window,
2009. Public domain, Wikimedia Commons.

"Mein Herz, mein Herz ist traurig
Doch lustig leuchtet der Mai"

There's May amid the meadows,
    There's May amid the trees;
Her May-time note the cuckoo
    Sends forth upon the breeze.

Above the rippling river
    May swallows skim and dart;
November and December
    Keep watch within my heart.

The spring breathes in the breezes,
    The woods with wood-notes ring,
And all the budding hedgerows
    Are fragrant of the spring.

In secret, silent places
    The live green things upstart; 

Ice-bound, ice-crown'd dwells winter
    For ever in my heart.

Upon the bridge I linger,
    Near where the lime-trees grow;
Above, swart birds are circling,
    Beneath, the stream runs slow.

A stripling and a maiden
    Come wand'ring up the way;
His eyes are glad with springtime,
    Her face is fair with May.

Of warmth and sun and sweetness
    All nature takes a part;
The ice of all the ages
    Weighs down upon my heart.

~~
Amy Levy (1861-1889)
from A Minor Poet, and other verse, 1884

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Amy Levy biography

The Woods in May / Ellwood Roberts

The Woods in May

Otto P. Balle (1865-1916), A Pine Forest in May,

 1909 (detail). Wikimedia Commons.

There dwells a subtle fragrance
    Within the woods of May,
That baffles all description,
    Inviting us to stay.
Aroma of the spring-time,
    Of bursting buds it tells,
Of wild flowers bright unfolding
    From out their tiny cells.

The newborn leaves a tender
    And brilliant green display;
When come the heats of summer,
    It quickly flies away.
Among the trees we wander,
    With sense of keen delight;
We may not feel it later,
    Though sunshine be as bright.

Sweet Nature's resurrection
    From Winter's ice and snow,
Fills woods of May with beauty
    Beyond all else we know.
The fragrant honeysuckle,
    And dogwood flowers white,
Bloom here in all their glory,
    A vision of delight.

How natural to linger
    Among the woods of May,
So many wonders are there,
    Inviting us to stay.
Each bush and tree has treasures
    Of leaf, or bud, or flower;
No art is there like Nature's
    When she exerts her power.

A tender, new-born glory,
    The leaflets all display,
There dwells a subtle fragranc
    Around our path to-day;
It bids us pause and linger,
    Ere it be gone for aye.
What joy and peace and sweetness
    Within the woods of May!

~~
Ellwood Roberts (1846-1921)
From Lyrics of Quakerism, and other poems, 1895

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Ellwood Roberts biography

Chanson D’Aventure / C.S. Lewis

Chanson D’Aventure

I heard in Addison’s Walk a bird sing clear
‘This year the summer will come true. This year. This year.

‘Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year, nor want of rain destroy the peas.

‘This year time’s nature will no more defeat you,
Nor all the promised moments in their passing cheat you.

‘This summer will not lead you round and back
To autumn, one year older, by the well-worn track.

‘Often deceived, yet open once again your heart,
The gates of good adventure swing apart.

‘This time, this time, as all these flowers foretell,
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.’

I said, ‘This might prove truer than a bird can know;
And yet your singing will not make it so.’

~~
C.S. Lewis (1898-1963)
from The Oxford Magazine, February 1938

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada]

C. S. Lewis biography

"What the Bird Said Early in the Year" read by Jo-Ann Dawson.

Courtesy St Mary Magdalene, Toronto - Anglican Church.

"What the Bird Said Early in the Year" is a later version of "Chanson d'Aventure," not published in Lewis's lifetime, that is inscribed on a memorial stone to Lewis on Addison's Walk at Magdalen College, Cambridge. The variations in the versions are discussed in "Carved in Stone: What the Bird Did Not Say Early in the Year" in The Lewis Legacy Issue 75 (Winter 1998).

3 May poems / Annette Wynne

May

"Moon of Green Leaves," so
They called you long ago,
So the Indian child at play
Spoke your name, dear Month of May.


The First of May

If I could stay up late no doubt
I'd catch the buds just bursting out;
And up from every hidden root
Would jump a tiny slender shoot;
I wonder how seeds learn the way,
They always know the very day —
The pretty, happy first of May;
If I could stay up then, no doubt
I'd catch the buds just bursting out.


May Is Pretty, May Is Mild

May is pretty, May is mild,
Dances like a happy child;
Sing out, robin; spring out, flowers;
April went with all her showers,
And the world is green again;
Come out, children, to the glen,
To the meadows, to the wood,
For the earth is clean and good,
And the sky is clear and blue,
And bright May is calling you!

May is pretty. May is mild,
Dances like a happy child,
On a blessèd holiday.
Come out, children, join the play!

~~
Annette Wynne (1889-1952)

from For Days and Days: A year-round treasury of child verse, 1919

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and  the European Union]

Ettore Tito (1859-1941), Holiday, 1910 (detail). Wikimedia Commons.

[June]

Annette Wynne biography

To My Mother / Christina Rossetti

    To My Mother

Harrison Weir (1824-1906),

 Flowers for Mother,  ca. 1880.

 Wikimedia Commons. 

    
    To-day's your natal day;
            Sweet flowers I bring:
    Mother, accept, I pray
            My offering.

    And may you happy live,
            And long us bless;
    Receiving as you give
            Great happiness.

~~
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
from Poems for Children, 1907

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Christina Rossetti biography

"To My Mother" read for Eternal Poems.

Holy Ghost Cement / AE Reiff

Holy Ghost Cement

Hopkins left the world unchanged.

Who else need try the ooze of oil,

shook foil, Holy Ghost brood?

We favor Herbert's command.

God's Grandeur lives or dies.

What falls between is vain.

Words to defend against bandits

vibrate around those we love.

How else guard?

Yesterday angels came to a house

that armed robbers feared,

"He guards the lives of his faithful ones,"

"Holy Father, protect them by the power

of your Name, the Name you gave me."

Up on a ladder with scaffold and boards,

with faith I am building the Name with the Word.

~~

AE Reiff, 2026

[All rights reserved by the author - Used with permission]

AE Reiff biography

God's Grandeur / Gerard Manley Hopkins

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

~~
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)
from Poems, 1918

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Gerard Manley Hopkins biography

 "God's Grandeur" read by Charles III. Courtesy The Royal Family..

May's featured poem

 

The Penny Blog's featured  poem for May 2026:

A Road Song in May, by Francis Sherman

[...]

O wind that bloweth from the west,

Is not this morning road the best?

— Let us go hand in hand, as free

And glad as little children be

[...]

https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2011/05/road-song-in-may-francis-sherman.html

Penny's Top 20 / April 2026

    

Penny's Top 20

The most-visited poems on  The Penny Blog in April 2026:

  1.  Only the Lonely, George J. Dance

  2.  Two Tramps in Mud Time, Robert Frost

  3.  Daffodils, William Wordsworth

  4.  Easter-day, Henry Vaughan

  5.  Blossom-Time, Hazel Hall

  6.  Easter, John Freeman

  7.  Elegy, Florence Kilpatrick Mixter

  8.  March, Annette Wynne

  9.  April, Jane G. Austin

10.  Aprilian, Bliss Carman

11.  April, George J. Dance

12.  Large Red Man Reading, Wallace Stevens

13.  Sonnet 1977, Will Dockery

14.  April the Magician, Annette Wynne

15.  Dandelions, George Sulzbach

16.  Skating, William Wordsworth

17.  Silk Diamond, George Sulzbach

18.  Spring, Richard Chenevix Trench

19.  Metric Figure, William Carlos Williams

20. A Russian Easter, Marya Zaturenska

Source: Blogger, "Stats" 

Aprilian / Bliss Carman

Arthur Hughes (1832-1915), April Love,

 ca. 1855. Wikimedia Commons.

Aprilian

When April came with sunshine
And showers and lilac bloom,
My heart with sudden gladness
Was like a fragrant room.

Her eyes were heaven's own azure,
As deep as God's own truth.
Her soul was made of rapture
And mystery and youth.

She knew the sorry burden
Of all the ancient years,
Yet could not dwell with sadness
And memory and tears.

With her there was no shadow
Of failure nor despair,
But only loving joyance.
O Heart, how glad we were!

~~
Bliss Carman (1861-1929)
from Later Poems, 1926

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Bliss Carman biography

April the Magician / Annette Wynne

April the Magician

Norman Rockwell (1894-1978),

The Magician, November 1919.

April has a wand of gold.
    To touch the trees; and then
They who were quite poor and old
    Grow young and rich again.

When April changes hill and tree,
    The birds rush back to you,
And grasses come again for me,
    And all the world grows new!

~~
Annette Wynne (1889-1952)

from For Days and Days: A year-round treasury of child verse, 1919

[Poem is in the public domain in

Canada, the United States, and  

the European Union]

[May[

Annette Wynne biography

Daffodils / William Wordsworth

Daffodils 

 I wander'd lonely as a cloud
    That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
    A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
    And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch’d in never-ending line
    Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
    Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
    In such a jocund company:
I gazed — and gazed — but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
    In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
    Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

~~
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), 1804
from The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250-1900

(edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch), 1919

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

William Wordsworth biography

"Daffodils (I wander'd lonely as a cloud)" read for Inspired4Nature.

Blossom-Time / Hazel Hall

Blossom-Time

So long as there is April
My heart is high,
Lifting up its white dreams
To the sky.

As trees hold up their blossoms
In a blowing cloud,
My hands are reaching,
My hands are proud.

All the crumbled splendours
Of autumn, and the cries
Of winds that I remember
Cannot make me wise.

Like the trees of April
Fearless and fair —
My heart swings its censers
Through the golden air.

~~
Hazel Hall (1886-1924)
from Curtains, 1921

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Hazel Hall biography

Mjeltsch, Apple tree blossoms in Viiki, Helsinki, Finland, 2021.

CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.

Elegy / Florence Kilpatrick Mixter

Elegy

Maxim Beiashvili, Moon and apple

 blossom at night, April 2017 (detail).

 CC BY-SA 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.

There is one Spring,
        One April of delight,
And all the rest is but remembering
        One moon-lit night.

Weave round its spell
        An elegy of song,
But never think the white hawthorn can dwell
        With you for long.

It is so fair
        And delicate a thing,
A sudden wind leaves blossoming twigs all bare
        Of covering.

White petals fall,
        Bewildered, at your feet,
And Spring makes of the whitest flower of all
        A winding sheet.

~~
Florence Kilpatrick Mixter (1877-1949)
from Out of Mist, 1921 

 [Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union] 

Florence Kilpatrick Mixter biography

April / Jane G. Austin

April

            Nay, laughing April, stay,
            And while I clasp thee, say:

Art thou a child whose wanton will
    Holds no deep wells of true desire?
Art thou a maid, ay, sweet and chill,
    Whose argent moon beams frozen fire?

She smiles, and weeps, and smiles again,
    Yet knows not why she smiles or weeps,
Unless o'er changeful hearts of men
    By charm of change her hold she keeps.

O changeful heart that cannot rest
    Because it seeks for something higher,
Scaling the heights to stand confessed,
    This is not yet what I desire.

For still beyond our feet or eyes
    In awful sheen there soars a crest.
On that dread height contentment lies,
    Come life, come death, I there will rest!

And so we pass within the cloud
    That hides the topmost mountain range,
And hidden in its frozen shroud,
    "We shall not die, but we shall change."

            So tearful April fies,
            Drawn up to summer skies.

~~
Jane G. Austin (1831-1894)
from Through the Year with the Poets: April, 1886

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Thomson200, Allatoona Mountains seen from Kennesaw Mountain, April 2017 (detail).

CC0 1.0, public domain, Wikimedia Commons.

[May]

Jane G. Austin biography

Easter-day / Henry Vaughan

Easter-day

Thou, whose sad heart, and weeping head lies low,
    Whose cloudy breast cold damps invade,
Who never feels the Sun, nor smooths thy brow,
    But sits oppressed in the shade,
                Awake, awake!
And in His Resurrection partake,
    Who, on this day (that thou might rise as He)
    Rose up, and cancelled two deaths due to thee.

Awake! awake! and like the Sun, disperse
    All mists that would usurp this day;
Where are thy Palms, thy branches, and thy verse?
    Hosanna! hark! why dost thou stay?
                Arise, arise,
And with His healing blood anoint thine eyes,
    Thy inward eyes; His blood will cure thy mind,
    Whose spittle only could restore the blind.

~~

Henry Vaughan (1622-1695)

from Silex Scintillans; or, Sacred poems

(edited by W.A. Lewis Bettany), 1905

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Henry Vaughan biography

Kay Kenyon, Easter Day on Cam Peak, 2011. CC BY-SA 2.0, Wikimedia Commons.

Easter / John Freeman

Easter

With Earth's arising riseth He from death,
        To all His faithful saith
                With urgent breath:

"Wake ye, out of your Winter-weary sleep!"
        And the slow pulses leap.
                No more then creep

The heavy days to night, and nights to day.
        The cloud-pack hastens away
                If He but say

Far off and faint and tremulous, "Awake!"
        How the heart's enemies quake
                When His steps shake

 
The silence they have woven as a shroud
        Upon it! Great and proud
                Alike they are bowed.

And as when lovely, radiant queenlike Spring
        Queenlike with her doth bring
                Every dear thing

Earth faints for; and the woods and gleaming meads
        Fulfilled are of their needs;
                And the lost seeds

Are found in keen green blades, and song again
        In birds, and the sweet rain
                Doth teach the plain

That gladness of the heaven-neighbouring hills;
        And the whole amazed Earth thrills
                With bliss that fills

Every hid channel and cell: — So when He rises
        In thousand sweet disguises,
                What swift surprises,

Heats, pregnant showers, flowers and rich airs He gives,
        Till the soul truly lives;
                And the fugitives —

Fear, Hate, Despair — ev'n as they fly are slain!
        O, precious ev'n the pain
                When in each vein

The leaping blood doth the old languors quicken;
        Precious, for hopes that sicken,
                To feel joys thicken

Like sudden leaves wherethrough the cool winds stir;
        Precious past gold and myrrh
                To feel Him near.

But as to some east hillside's dewless breast,
        Naked of leaf and nest,
                Spring, the loved guest,

Comes not, though all the woods her blisses cover.
        And larks but yonder hover
                The soft turf over;

Barren of Thy spring, Lord, unvisited
        Of any rains; but dead,
                Unmemoried,

My heart lies; yea, Thy spring neglects it yet.
        O, canst Thou still forget,
                My need forget?

~~
John Freeman (1880-1929)
from Fifty Poems, 1911

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

John Freeman biography

Jusben, Spring morning, 2011. CC BY 3.0, Wikimedia Commons.

April's featured poem

 

The Penny Blog's featured  poem for April 2026:

Two Tramps in Mud Time, by Robert Frost

[...]

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.

You know how it is with an April day

When the sun is out and the wind is still,

You’re one month on in the middle of May.

[...]

(read by Robert Frost)

https://gdancesbetty.blogspot.com/2015/04/two-tramps-in-mud-time.html

Penny's Top 30 / March 2026

Penny's Top 30

The most-visited poems on  The Penny Blog in March 2026:

  1.  March, Hart Crane

  2.  Poem for Kathy, Will Dockery

  3.  A March Day in London, Amy Levy

  4.  First of March, Frederick Tennyson

  5.  A Song to Mithras, Rudyard Kipling

  6.  A March Night, Ethelwyn Wetherald

  7.  Skating, William Wordsworth

  8.  First Day of Spring, F.W. Harvey

  9.  A Thought for March 1860, Charles Tennyson Turner

10.  Saint Patrick, Edwin Markham

11.  Esthetique du Mal, Wallace Stevens

12.  Large Red Man Reading, Wallace Stevens

13.  A Morning Song (for the First Day of Spring), Eleanor Farjeon

14.  Vowels, Arthur Rimbaud

15.  Silk Diamond, George Sulzbach

16.  March, Jane G. Austin

17.  Afterglow, George J. Dance

18.  Ode to Sport, Pierre de Coubertin

19.  Winterworld Descending, Will Dockery

20. Spring, Richard Chenevix Trench

21. March, Annette Wynne

22. Winter's Muse Calling, JD Shirk

23. Mars & Avril, George J. Dance

24. A Meadow in Spring, Tom Bishop

25. The Bright Extensive Will, AE Reiff

26. March, George J. Dance

27. Song, Trumbull Stickney

28. March is the Month of Expectation, Emily Dickinson

29. United Dames of America, Wallace Stevens

30. Dear March - Come in -, Emily Dickinson

Source: Blogger, "Stats"