Children poems

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He Sendeth Sun, He Sendeth Shower

© Sarah Flower Adams

He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower,
Alike they're needful for the flower:
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.

On The Massacre Of The Christians In Bulgaria

© Oscar Wilde

Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or are Thy bones
Still straitened in their rock-hewn sepulchre?
And was Thy Rising only dreamed by her
Whose love of Thee for all her sin atones?

Ave Imperatrix

© Oscar Wilde

Set in this stormy Northern sea,
Queen of these restless fields of tide,
England! what shall men say of thee,
Before whose feet the worlds divide?

It is full winter now: the trees are bare,
Save where the cattle huddle from the cold
Beneath the pine, for it doth never wear
The autumn's gaudy livery whose gold
Her jealous brother pilfers, but is true
To the green doublet; bitter is the wind, as though it blew

Ravenna

© Oscar Wilde

(Newdigate prize poem recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford
June
26th, 1878.

Deer Dancer

© Joy Harjo

Nearly everyone had left that bar in the middle of winter except the
hardcore.It was the coldest night of the year, every place shut down, but
not us.Of course we noticed when she came in.We were Indian ruins.She
was the end of beauty.No one knew her, the stranger whose tribe we
recognized, her family related to deer, if that's who she was, a people
accustomed to hearing songs in pine trees, and making them hearts.

Phantasmagoria CANTO V ( Byckerment )

© Lewis Carroll

"DON'T they consult the 'Victims,' though?"
I said. "They should, by rights,
Give them a chance - because, you know,
The tastes of people differ so,
Especially in Sprites."

Phantasmagoria CANTO IV ( Hys Nouryture )

© Lewis Carroll

"OH, when I was a little Ghost,
A merry time had we!
Each seated on his favourite post,
We chumped and chawed the buttered toast
They gave us for our tea."

Epilogue to Through the Looking Glass

© Lewis Carroll

A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --

A Sea Dirge

© Lewis Carroll

There are certain things--as, a spider, a ghost,
The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three--
That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most
Is a thing they call the Sea.

Acrostic

© Lewis Carroll

Little maidens, when you look
On this little story-book,
Reading with attentive eye
Its enticing history,

An Alphabet of Famous Goops

© Gelett Burgess

AN ALPHABET OF FAMOUS GOOPS.
Which you 'll Regard with Yells and Whoops.
Futile Acumen!
For you Yourselves are Doubtless Dupes
Of Failings Such as Mar these Groups --
We all are Human!