Lancashire Lantern: Lancashire Poetry Index

Part of the Lancashire Lantern network, an index to authors, first lines and titles of Lancashire poetry in books held within libraries in Lancashire, including the Lancashire Authors’ Association collection. The index provides details of the book in which a particular poem may be found and also a link through to the library catalogue to give the locations of the required volume.

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Sabbath! thou art my Ararat of life

Sacred be thy pensive hours

Sad and lone, with weary feet

Sad and sick unto death, on his pallet reclining

Sad are the tales that stir old England's breast

Sad eyed and melancholy

Sad news to-night

Sad was Scotland's King!

Sadly I wander without thee, divided

Sadness isn't sadness

Safe defended from all harms

Sagarmatha, Head of the Earth, the natives call you

Sages i' ther wisdom tell us

Said a child to his father one day, and he

Said Billy to Betty, 'tha's getten drest up'

Said Dick unto Tom, one Friday at noon

Said Doctor John, I must agree

Said farewell to my last hotel

Said Jack the shepherd, strong and hale

Said Sharp to Sharp (he's our macaw)

Sailing dinghies, surfboards, water-wings, flippers and rings

Sailing on - and ever on

Saint Cadoc, sailing many a weary mile

Sally go round the sun - the runic spell

Salt-licked by tide, where ocean wide

Sam Seaurpoke wer a collier lad in eighteen fifty three

Sam Tulip said he'd mak' a will

Sam, at Jack o' Neddur's, wur tir't o' livin' single life

Samuel Pepys said to 'is missus one day

Sap of the Sullen moor is blood of mud

Sapper, snorting under sleep, furiously

Saris billow in the wind lile dhows off the shore

Saturday neet at t'local dance

Saturday night outsider

Saturn, Earth, Neptune, and Mars

Saturn, Earth, Neptune, Mars

Saw you Lady Moon

Say not that he is dead who wrought anew

Say not, the struggle nought availeth

Say what is the life of the brave

Say, blooms the daisy yet as fair

Say, don't be shy

Say, what can this existence mean

Say, what is Love? - a bubble

Say, what is the life of the brave

Says Jone eawt o' Grinfilt, Aw tell you what, Nan

Says Jone to his wife, I've great news for t'tell

Says Jone to his woife on a whot summer's day

Scantily dressed nymph is spring, tantalising man with new delights

Scaray, high

Scarce has the pale-faced sun but left his bed

Scared at the aspect of advancing day

Scary, noisy, flying bats

Scatter seeds of kindness and you'll reap them by and by

Scene o' long departed glories

Scenes of my childhood! as on memory's wing

School, school I like school

Schools, and a brightening day, all children taught

Science for ever sees her limits fly

Science, red-handed, her own offspring kills

Scive on, brave souls, and win your way

Scoolin' maid o' iron broo

Scotland I love thee dear to this young heart

Scourge of the nations, and the bane of freedom, hope and life

Screamed the black-suited man

Seagulls bright white glint

Seals flop

Seared are my days as the leaves

Season of mists and fogbound motorways

Seasons come and seasons go

Secret was the garden

Sed goose unto gondor

Sed Tom to Dick, the other day

See how humble celandine

See the candle buring bright

See the lilies how they grow

See the mighty ocean splashing

See the nurse her charge attending

See yon mildly beaming light

See! the old year now is dying, and the trees, with branches bare

See! the waves are gleaming

See, frae yon smeaket tall lum head

See, on some moonless evening densely dark

See, Spring! With lap of budding sweets arrive!

Seed time and harvest

Seedtime to blossom, bloom to harvest led

Seeing as yet nothing is really well enough arranged

Seeing Him who is invisible

Seek and you will find

Seeming

Sefton, Princes, Wavertree

Seleba, watchful Seleba

Self is not all with all men, after all

Send out Thy servants far away

Senior retired civil servants

Ser-Ann, wilt carr thi daewn

Sere Autumn reigned, and fierce and rude

Serene it stands, a stately home

Serving out in Poona

Set the bells a-ringing

Settle doon, my Poppet joy

Shadows in the early morning

Shafts of sunlight through golden leaves

Shake of stars and frost shine

Shall England be re-conquered?

Shall I install electric light, he said

Shall we again make light of victory?

Shame on th' lass ut's fancy free

Sharks are quick

She bloom'd, a tender autumn flower

She came a little fairy one

She came in through the bathroom window

She came to us, small wonder

She came, the little fairy one

She cast the gay robes from her form

She cherished long-loved legacies

She comes! She comes - the young May Queen

She comes, she comes, the beauteous spring

She did not love to love; but hated him

She felt herself a white mouse

She gave me a rose, with the dew fresh upon it

She gave me of her hair

She gave the old man flowers

She had walked from the refuge, a weary two mile

She has gone to her est, now her troubles are o'er

She hath an old-world grace

She hath passed away as some fair flower

She is

She is a maiden fair to see

She is air and light

She is as beautiful as bustickets

She is most like a lute that lies

She is not dead - though millions are in grief

She keeps kingfishers in their cages

She knows of tracer and of flak

She left her father's land and the birthplace of her mother

She looked at me this morning

She looked experienced as well as pretty

She loves! - sad is their lot who seek

She makes little of it

She measures out her days behind shut doors

She must think that I am strong

She owns no land or mansion grand

She passed me by on the road of Time

She received a parcel through the post

She sat by the taper's lessening light

She set the table for two and dined alone

She sits alone in her hospital bed

She sits in the scented chamber

She stands before us

She stands in her regal dignity

She stands there all alone

She stood beside me in the night

She touched Him; hoping in the crowd

She waitd in the silence, out of sight

She waiteth by the forest stream

She wakes one at the break of day

She walks across the room and opens the skylight

She walks softly through the night

She wanders nightly through a world of streets

She was a clog-nose kind of girl

She was a maid, with nut-brown hair

She was a modest servant

She was a pretty child with long blonde hair

She was aweary of the hovering

She was born plain Agnes Bojahili

She was so huge, a monumental mother

She was tired and hungry and sad

She was too good for this world

She will be here, she's sure to some

She will not come... oh, never, never more

She worked in screening

She works where someone must have stitched her up

She'd a silver spoon in her mouth when born

Sheltered in itself

She's a shy little miss

She's a trained low-profile lady

She's been away a fortnight, but it seems almost a year

She's cute

She's dark and neat

She's dreamy is sweet Sally Jones

She's not so fair as many there

She's playful and kind

She's sightly, and sprightly

She's the girl you see on the Underground

Shock waves

Shocked and confused, the pain competes

Shoddy, shoddy, shoddy, that's the soart to spin

Shooting stars

Shop window models - stiff, elegant limbs

Short back-and-sides, I slump into a chair

Should the tear of affection bedew

Should these few stanzas meet thine eye

Should we wander, you and I

Should you be looking, for North West places to explore

Should you be looking, for North West places to explore

Should you offend a fellow-man

Should you pick up this book at the end of the day

Should you stroll through the town with a curious eye

Show me a bank where the grasses grow

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