Children poems
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The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
Love and Folly
© William Cullen Bryant
His lovely mother's grief was deep,
She called for vengeance on the deed;
A beauty does not vainly weep,
Nor coldly does a mother plead.
The Living Lost
© William Cullen Bryant
Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead,
Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve;
And graceful are the tears ye shed,
And honoured ye who grieve.
After a Tempest
© William Cullen Bryant
The day had been a day of wind and storm;--
The wind was laid, the storm was overpast,--
And stooping from the zenith, bright and warm
Shone the great sun on the wide earth at last.
In The Waste Hour
© William Ernest Henley
Nay, there were we,
Her five strong sons!
To her Death came--the great Deliverer came! -
As equal comes to equal, throne to throne.
She was a mother of men.
from "Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika"
© Cornelis Jacobus Langenhoven
Nkosi sikelel' iAfrika
Maluphakanyisw' uphondo lwayo,
Yizwa imithandazo yethu,
Nkosi sikelela, thina lusapho lwayo.
(Xhosa and Zulu)
A New Philosophy; Or, Star Showers Explained
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ONE luminous night in winter,
All crystal clear and still,
A band of wondering children
Were grouped by the window sill.
I can't tell youbut you feel it
© Emily Dickinson
I can't tell youbut you feel it
Nor can you tell me
Saints, with ravished slate and pencil
Solve our April Day!
Earth-Bound
© Alfred Noyes
Ghosts? Love would fain believe,
Earth being so fair, the dead might wish to return!
Is it so strange if, even in heaven, they yearn
For the May-time and the dreams it used to give?
Christmas, 1918
© Edgar Albert Guest
They give their all, this Christmastide, that peace on earth shall reign;
Upon the snows of Flanders now, brave blood has left its stain;
With ribbons red we deck our gifts; theirs bear the red of pain.
The Fountain
© William Cullen Bryant
Fountain, that springest on this grassy slope,
Thy quick cool murmur mingles pleasantly,
The Choice
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
This Consul Casementhe who heard the cry
Of stricken peopleand who in his fight
Butterflies
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
O child of Joy! What idle life is thine!
Thou, in these meadows, while thy skies are blue,
And while thy joys are new to thee like wine,
Chasest mad butterflies as children do.
And lo, thou turnest from them to repine,
Because it was not love thou didst pursue.
126. Lines written on a Bank-note
© Robert Burns
WAE worth thy power, thou cursed leaf!
Fell source o a my woe and grief!
For lack o thee Ive lost my lass!
For lack o thee I scrimp my glass!
For He Was a Jolly Good Fellow
© Henry Lawson
THEY CHEERED him from the wharfit was a glorious day:
His hand went to his scarfhis thoughts were far away.
Oh, he was Jolly Good, they sang it long and loud
The money lender stood unknown amongst the crowd.
Hed taken him aside, while trembling fit to fall,
No friendly eye espied the last farewell of all!
The Seventh Day
© Yehudah HaLevi
Forget not the day of the Sabbath,
Its mention is like a pleasant offering.
The Eagle and the Dove
© William Wordsworth
SHADE of Caractacus, if spirits love
The cause they fought for in their earthly home
To see the Eagle ruffled by the Dove
May soothe thy memory of the chains of Rome.
