Children poems
/ page 107 of 244 /A Poem Beginning With A Line From Pindar
© Robert Duncan
But the eyes in Goyas painting are soft,
diffuse with rapture absorb the flame.
Their bodies yield out of strength.
Waves of visual pleasure
wrap them in a sorrow previous to their impatience.
South Carolina To The States Of The North
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I LIFT these hands with iron fetters banded:
Beneath the scornful sunlight and cold stars
I rear my once imperial forehead branded
By alien shame's immedicable scars;
The Father's Worshippers
© George MacDonald
'Tis we, not in thine arms, who weep and pray;
The children in thy bosom laugh and play.
4. SongIn the Character of a Ruined Farmer
© Robert Burns
THE SUN he is sunk in the west,
All creatures retir?d to rest,
While here I sit, all sore beset,
With sorrow, grief, and woe:
And its O, fickle Fortune, O!
The Ballad of the White Horse
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night-
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
An Impromptu - II
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AT THE WALCKER DINNER UPON THE
COMPLETION OF THE GREAT ORGAN
Howard At Atlanta
© John Greenleaf Whittier
RIGHT in the track where Sherman
Ploughed his red furrow,
Out of the narrow cabin,
Up from the cellar's burrow,
The Battle Of Salamis
© Aeschylus
The night was passing, and the Grecian host
By no means sought to issue forth unseen.
"Choose You This Day Whom Ye Will Serve"
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
YES, tyrants, you hate us, and fear while you hate
The self-ruling, chain-breaking, throne-shaking State!
The night-birds dread morning,--your instinct is true,--
The day-star of Freedom brings midnight for you!
For City Lovers
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Do not desire to seek who once we were,
Or where we did, or what, or in whose name.
The Child-World
© James Whitcomb Riley
There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows
Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy--
As when you were a boy.
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
5. Tragic FragmentAll villain as I am
© Robert Burns
ALL villain as I ama damn?d wretch,
A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting villain,
Still my heart melts at human wretchedness;
And with sincere but unavailing sighs
The Dream Of The World Without Death
© William Cosmo Monkhouse
NOW, sitting by her side, worn out with weeping,
Behold, I fell to sleep, and had a vision,
Acropolis
© Lawrence Durrell
The soft quem quam will be Scops the Owl
conjugation of nouns, a line of enquiry,
The Cupboard
© Arthur Rimbaud
O cupboard of old times, you know plenty of stories;
and you'd like to tell them;
and you clear your throat every time
your great dark doors slowly open.
Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts I.-II.
© John Logan
Yet lost to fame is virtue's orient reign;
The patriot lived, the hero died in vain,
Dark night descended o'er the human day,
And wiped the glory of the world away:
Whirled round the gulf, the acts of time were tost,
Then in the vast abyss for ever lost.
133. The Brigs of Ayr
© Robert Burns
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough,
Learning his tuneful trade from evry bough;
The chanting linnet, or the mellow thrush,
Hailing the setting sun, sweet, in the green thorn bush;