Children poems
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Never Or Now
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
LISTEN, young heroes! your country is calling!
Time strikes the hour for the brave and the true!
Now, while the foremost are fighting and falling,
Fill up the ranks that have opened for you!
A New Temperance Poem, in Memory of My Departed Parents
© William Topaz McGonagall
My parents were sober living, and often did pray
For their family to abstain from intoxicating drink alway;
Because they knew it would lead them astray
Which no God fearing man will dare to gainsay.
The Female Exile
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Written at Brighthelmstone in Nov. 1792.
NOVEMBER'S chill blast on the rough beach is howling,
The surge breaks afar, and then foams to the shore,
Dark clouds o'er the sea gather heavy and scowling,
In The Twilight
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
NOT bed-time yet! The night-winds blow,
The stars are out,--full well we know
Wild Flowers
© George MacDonald
Content Primroses,
With hearts at rest in your thick leaves' soft care,
Revelation
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Still, as of old, in Beavor's Vale,
O man of God! our hope and faith
The Elements and Stars assail,
And the awed spirit holds its breath,
Blown over by a wind of death.
Home
© William Henry Drummond
"Oh! Mother the bells are ringing as never they rang before,
And banners aloft are flying, and open is every door,
While down in the streets are thousands of men I have never seen--
But friendly are all the faces--oh! Mother, what can it mean?"
Wants
© Edith Wharton
WE women want too many things;
And first we call for happiness, -
The careless boon the hour brings,
The smile, the song, and the caress.
The Meetings Of The Flowers
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
There is within this world of ours
Full many a happy home and hearth;
What time, the Saviour's blessed birth
Makes glad the gloom of wintry hours.
Geometry by Nancy Botkin: American Life in Poetry #117 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
We knew them only in summer when the air
passed through the screens. The neighbor girls
talked to us across the great divide: attic window
to attic window. We started with our names.
Our whispers wobbled along a tightrope,
and below was the rest of our lives.
American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 2006 by Nancy Botkin. Reprinted from âPoetry East,â? Spring, 2006, by permission of the author, whose full-length book of poems, âParts That Were Once Whole,â? is available from Mayapple Press, 2007. Introduction copyright © 2009 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.
The Lanes Of Apple Bloom
© Edgar Albert Guest
DOWN the lanes of apple bloom, we are treading once again,
Down the pathways rosy red trip the women-folk and men.
Love and laughter lead us on, light of heart as children gay,
June is smiling on us now, bidding us to romp and play.
The Present Crisis
© James Russell Lowell
When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast
Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west,
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb
To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime
Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of Time.
Idyll XXII. The Sons of Leda
© Theocritus
He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew
His clarion. Straightway to the shadowy pine
Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long,
Bebrycia's bearded sons; and Castor too,
The peerless in the lists, went forth and called
From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all.
A Legend of Bregenz
© Adelaide Anne Procter
GIRT round with rugged mountains the fair Lake Constance lies;
In her blue heart reflected, shine back the starry skies;
And, watching each white cloudlet float silently and slow,
You think a piece of heaven lies on our earth below!
Enoch Arden
© Alfred Tennyson
At length she spoke `O Enoch, you are wise;
And yet for all your wisdom well know I
That I shall look upon your face no more.'
By occasion of the Young Prince his happy birth
© Henry King
At this glad Triumph, when most Poets use
Their quill, I did not bridle up my Muse
For sloth or less devotion. I am one
That can well keep my Holy-dayes at home;
