Children poems
/ page 176 of 244 /
The Maid's Lament
© Walter Savage Landor
I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone,
I feel I am alone.
I check'd him while he spoke; yet, could he speak,
Alas! I would not check.
At Vaucluse
© Alfred Austin
By Avignon's dismantled walls,
Where cloudless mid-March sunshine falls,
Rhone, through broad belts of green,
Flecked with the light of almond groves,
Upon itself reverting, roves
Reluctant from the scene.
Corinna, from Athens, to Tanagra
© Walter Savage Landor
Tanagra! think not I forget
Thy beautifully-storeyd streets;
Hic Jacet
© William Carlos Williams
The coroner's merry little children
Have such twinkling brown eyes.
Their father is not of gay men
And their mother jocular in no wise,
Yet the coroner's merry little children
Laugh so easily.
When Tulips Bloom
© Henry Van Dyke
When tulips bloom in Union Square,
And timid breaths of vernal air
Go wandering down the dusty town,
Like children lost in Vanity Fair;
The Adieu
© Louisa Stuart Costello
We part, and thou art mine no more!
I go through seas never sought before,
Changgan Memories
© Li Po
When first my hair began to cover my forehead,
I picked and played with flowers before the gate.
You came riding on a bamboo horse,
And circled the walkway, playing with green plums.
All Day It Has Rained
© Alun Lewis
As of ourselves or those whom we
For years have loved, and will again
Tomorrow maybe love; but now it is the rain
Possesses us entirely, the twilight and the rain.
Think'st thou to seduce me then
© Thomas Campion
Think'st thou to seduce me then with words that have no meaning?
Parrots so can learn to prate, our speech by pieces gleaning;
Nurses teach their children so about the time of weaning.
Envoy
© Francis Thompson
Go, songs, for ended is our brief, sweet play;
Go, children of swift joy and tardy sorrow:
And some are sung, and that was yesterday,
And some unsung, and that may be to-morrow.
At a Pantomime. By a Bilious One
© William Schwenck Gilbert
An Actor sits in doubtful gloom,
His stock-in-trade unfurled,
In a damp funereal dressing-room
In the Theatre Royal, World.
The Lay of a Golden Goose
© Louisa May Alcott
Long ago in a poultry yard
One dull November morn,
Beneath a motherly soft wing
A little goose was born.
From The Short Story Shadow-Children
© Louisa May Alcott
Little shadows, little shadows
Dancing on the chamber wall,
While I sit beside the hearthstone
Where the red flames rise and fall.
Request to a Year
© Judith Wright
If the year is meditating a suitable gift,
I should like it to be the attitude
of my great- great- grandmother,
legendary devotee of the arts,
Montenegro
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Coiled in shadow, the serpent seas
Engirdle perilous hills sublime:
By tortuous, steep degrees
Toward the morn I climb.
Madge Linsey, Or The Three Souls
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Then by Madge Linsey's side knelt he a little while,
"So of our wilful sins pay we the toll.
Even as she were I, had I but followed her.
But the Lord succoured me saving my soul."
The Wounded Breakfast
© Russell Edson
Soon the huge shoe is descending the
opposite horizon, a monstrous snail squealing
and grinding into the earth . . .
Hymn Read At The Dedication Of The Oliver Wendell Holmes Hospital At Hudson, Wisconsin
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
ANGEL of love, for every grief
Its soothing balm thy mercy brings,
For every pang its healing leaf,
For homeless want, thine outspread, wings.
