Children poems

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The Unknown Eros. Book I.

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

  Well dost thou, Love, thy solemn Feast to hold
  In vestal February;
  Not rather choosing out some rosy day
  From the rich coronet of the coming May,
  When all things meet to marry!

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Salvador Dali

© David Gascoyne

The smooth plain with its mirrors listens to the cliff
Like a basilisk eating flowers.
And the children, lost in the shadows of the catacombs,
Call to the mirrors for help:
'Strong-bow of salt, cutlass of memory,
Write on my map the name of every river.'

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Giant Night

© Anne Waldman

Awake in a giant night
is where I am
  There is a river where my soul, 
hungry as a horse drinks beside me

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The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Fifth

© William Lisle Bowles

Such are thy views, DISCOVERY! The great world

  Rolls to thine eye revealed; to thee the Deep

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Grandfather Bridgeman

© George Meredith

'Heigh, boys!' cried Grandfather Bridgeman, 'it's time before dinner to-day.'
He lifted the crumpled letter, and thumped a surprising 'Hurrah!'
Up jumped all the echoing young ones, but John, with the starch in his throat,
Said, 'Father, before we make noises, let's see the contents of the note.'
The old man glared at him harshly, and twinkling made answer: 'Too bad!
John Bridgeman, I'm always the whisky, and you are the water, my lad!'

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Three Women

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.

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The Prediction

© Mark Strand

That night the moon drifted over the pond, 
turning the water to milk, and under 
the boughs of the trees, the blue trees, 
a young woman walked, and for an instant

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The Author

© Charles Churchill

Accursed the man, whom Fate ordains, in spite,

And cruel parents teach, to read and write!

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Holy Thursday: 'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean

© William Blake

Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean 
The children walking two & two in red & blue & green 
Grey-headed beadles walkd before with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Pauls they like Thames waters flow 

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[anyone lived in a pretty how town]

© Edward Estlin Cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.

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Mary’s Wedding

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

The future I read in toil's guerdon,
You will read in your children's eyes:
The past--the same past with either--
Is to you a delightsome scene,
But I cannot trace it clearly
For the graves that rise between.

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A Map to the Next World

© Joy Harjo

for Desiray Kierra Chee
In the last days of the fourth world I wished to make a map for
those who would climb through the hole in the sky.

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Semele Recycled

© John Betjeman

After you left me forever,

I was broken into pieces,

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The Empty Glass

© Louise Gluck

I asked for much; I received much.
I asked for much; I received little, I received
next to nothing.

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Living at the End of Time

© Robert Bly

There is so much sweetness in children’s voices,
And so much discontent at the end of day,
And so much satisfaction when a train goes by.

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Under A Tree

© Edgar Albert Guest

UNDER a tree where the breezes blow,
There is the spot that it's good to go
With the children bronzed by the Summer sun,
Bubbling with laughter and wholesome fun;
And I gather them round — all the happy clan,
And forget for a while I'm a grizzled old man.

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How?

© Franklin Pierce Adams

How can I work when you play the piano,
  Feminine person above?
How can I think, with your ceaseless soprano
  Singing: "Ah, Love--"?

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Parson Turell’s Legacy

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

OR, THE PRESIDENT'S OLD ARM-CHAIR

A MATHEMATICAL STORY

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The Bad Old Days

© Kenneth Rexroth

The summer of nineteen eighteen

I read The Jungle and The

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[Murmurs from the earth of this land?]

© Katha Pollitt

Murmurs from the earth of this land, from the caves and craters,

  from the bowl of darkness. Down watercourses of our