Children poems
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The Path To Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
THERE'S the mother at the doorway, and the children at the gate,
And the little parlor windows with the curtains white and straight.
There are shaggy asters blooming in the bed that lines the fence,
And the simplest of the blossoms seems of mighty consequence.
Oh, there isn't any mansion underneath God's starry dome
That can rest a weary pilgrim like the little place called home.
The Battle-Field
© William Cullen Bryant
Once this soft turf, this rivulet's sands,
Were trampled by a hurrying crowd,
And fiery hearts and armed hands
Encountered in the battle cloud.
To S. F. S.
© George MacDonald
They say that lonely sorrows do not chance:
More gently, I think, sorrows together go;
F. W. C.
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FAST as the rolling seasons bring
The hour of fate to those we love,
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 13
© William Langland
And I awaked therwith, witlees nerhande,
And as a freke that fey were, forth gan I walke
Conclusion Of A Letter To The Rev. Mr. C---.
© Mary Barber
'Tis Time to conclude; for I make it a Rule,
To leave off all Writing, when Con. comes from School.
He dislikes what I've written, and says, I had better
To send what he calls a poetical Letter.
Elegy: Walking the Line
© Edgar Bowers
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line,
The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum
Superb above the cabin, along the wall
Stones gathered from the level field nearby
The Indian Burying Ground
© Philip Morin Freneau
In spite of all the learn'd have said;
I still my old opinion keep,
The posture, that we give the dead,
Points out the soul's eternal sleep.
Kindliness
© Rupert Brooke
When love has changed to kindliness -
Oh, love, our hungry lips, that press
A Masque Of The Seasons
© James Whitcomb Riley
Scene.--_A kitchen.--Group of Children, popping corn.--The Fairy Queen
of the Seasons discovered in the smoke of the corn-popper.--Waving her
wand, and, with eerie, sharp, imperious ejaculations, addressing the
bespelled auditors, who neither see nor hear her nor suspect her
presence._
An Angel in the House
© James Henry Leigh Hunt
How sweet it were, if without feeble fright,
Or dying of the dreadful beauteous sight,
An angel came to us, and we could bear
To see him issue from the silent air
Written A Year After The Events
© Charles Lamb
Alas! how am I chang'd! Where be the tears,
The sobs, and forc'd suspensions of the breath,
The Happiest Girl in the World
© Augusta Davies Webster
A week ago; only a little week:
it seems so much much longer, though that day
is every morning still my yesterday;
as all my life 'twill be my yesterday,
for all my life is morrow to my love.
Oh fortunate morrow! Oh sweet happy love!
The Wanderer
© John Masefield
ALL day they loitered by the resting ships,
Telling their beauties over, taking stock;
At night the verdict left my messmate's lips,
"The Wanderer is the finest ship in dock."
The Everlasting Mercy
© John Masefield
Thy place is biggyd above the sterrys cleer,
Noon erthely paleys wrouhte in so statly wyse,
Com on my freend, my brothir moost enteer,
For the I offryd my blood in sacrifise.
John Lydgate.
Risus Dei
© Edward Thomas
Methinks in Him there dwells alway
A sea of laughter very deep,
Where the leviathans leap,
And little children play,
Maundy Thursday
© Wilfred Owen
Between the brown hands of a server-lad
The silver cross was offered to be kissed.
Sonnets To Europa
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough
of dark becoming where it cannot be.
So much both for the soil and for the tree,
so much for things that are becoming now.
Propertius
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
The dead dont know how to cry, they dont
have any hopes to lose, any illusions
to bargain for. Theyre lost
like limpid feathers of a slow bird,
too slow to make it to the other shore.
Eastern River
© Peter Huchel
On the boughs,
empty nests of the penduline titmice,
shoes light as birds.
No one slips them
over children's feet.
