Children poems
/ page 156 of 244 /Among The Narcissi
© Sylvia Plath
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks,
Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi.
He is recuperating from something on the lung.
When Jesus Left His Father's Throne
© James Montgomery
When Jesus left His Fathers throne,
He chose a humble birth;
Hands
© Stephen Vincent Benet
My wifes hands are long and thin,
Fit to catch a spirit in,
Fit to set a subtle snare
For something lighter than the air.
The Sea
© Lewis Carroll
There are certain things -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.
And You, Helen
© Edward Thomas
And you, Helen, what should I give you?
So many things I would give you
Sir Eustace Grey
© George Crabbe
And shall I then the fact deny?
I was--thou know'st--I was begone,
Like him who fill'd the eastern throne,
To whom the Watcher cried aloud;
That royal wretch of Babylon,
Who was so guilty and so proud.
The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - The Buried City
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Beside that giant stream that foams and swells
Betwixt Hy-Conaill and Moyarta's shore,
And guards the isle where good Senanus dwells,
A gentle maiden dwelt in days of yore.
Picture By Giov. Bellini, In The Church Of The Redentore At Venice
© Richard Monckton Milnes
THE VIRGIN.
Who am I, to be so far exalted
Over all the maidens of Judaea,
That here only in this lonely bosom
The Black Rock
© John Gould Fletcher
Off the long headland, threshed about by round-backed breakers,
There is a black rock, standing high at the full tide;
Off the headland there is emptiness,
And the moaning of the ocean,
And the black rock standing alone.
The Detective
© Sylvia Plath
What was she doing when it blew in
Over the seven hills, the red furrow, the blue mountain?
Was she arranging cups? It is important.
Was she at the window, listening?
In that valley the train shrieks echo like souls on hooks.
Song Of The Broad-Axe
© Walt Whitman
Strong shapes, and attributes of strong shapes-masculine trades,
sights and sounds;
Long varied train of an emblem, dabs of music;
Fingers of the organist skipping staccato over the keys of the great
organ.
Song of a Thousand Years
© Henry Clay Work
Lift up your eyes desponding freemen!
Fling to the winds your needless fears!
He who unfurl'd your beauteous banner,
Says it shall wave a thousand years!
From early dawn the thirtieth of April...
© Boris Pasternak
From early dawn the thirtieth of April
Is given up to children of the town,
And caught in trying on the festive necklace,
By dusk it only just is settling down.
Noontide Hymn
© George MacDonald
I love thy skies, thy sunny mists,
Thy fields, thy mountains hoar,
Thy wind that bloweth where it lists-
Thy will, I love it more.
Venetian Epigrams
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
With such a scroll, which himself richly with life has adorn'd.
-----
CLASP'D in my arms for ever eagerly hold I my mistress,
James Whitcomb Riley
© Edgar Albert Guest
There must be great rejoicin'
on the Golden Shore to-day,
An' the big an' little angels
Our Life
© Paul Eluard
Well not reach the goal one by one but in pairs
We know in pairs we will know all about us
Well love everything our children will smile
At the dark history or mourn alone