Children poems

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The Floods

© Rudyard Kipling

The rain it rains without a stay
In the hills above us, in the hills;
And presently the floods break way
Whose strength is in the hills.

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The Female of the Species

© Rudyard Kipling

When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

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Jerusalem Delivered - Book 02 - part 05

© Torquato Tasso

XLVI

"Sir King," quoth she, "my name Clorinda hight,

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The Piper On The Hills

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

A CHILD'S SONG

There sits a piper on the hill

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The Children's Song

© Rudyard Kipling

Puck of Poock's Hills
Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee
Our love and toil in the years to be;
When we are grown and take our place
As men and women with our race.

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The Letter L

© Jean Ingelow

We sat on grassy slopes that meet
  With sudden dip the level strand;
The trees hung overhead—­our feet
  Were on the sand.

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Butterflies

© Rudyard Kipling

Eyes aloft, over dangerous places,
The children follow the butterflies,
And, in the sweat of their upturned faces,
Slash with a net at the empty skies.

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Buddha at Kamakura

© Rudyard Kipling

Oye who treated the Narrow Way
By Tophet-flare to Judgment Day,
Be gentle when "the heathen" pray
To Buddha at Kamakura!

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Beast and Man in India

© Rudyard Kipling

Written for John Lockwood Kipling's
They killed a Child to please the Gods
In Earth's young penitence,
And I have bled in that Babe's stead
Because of innocence.

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The Ballad of the King's Mercy

© Rudyard Kipling

Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told.
His mercy fills the Khyber hills -- his grace is manifold;
He has taken toll of the North and the South -- his glory reacheth far,
And they tell the tale of his charity from Balkh to Kandahar.

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Ireland

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

They are dying! they are dying! where the golden corn is growing;
  They are dying! they are dying! where the crowded herds are lowing:
  They are gasping for existence where the streams of life are flowing,
  And they perish of the plague where the breeze of health is blowing!

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The Ballad Of The Battle Of Gibeon

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Sudden and still as a bolt shot right
Up on the city we went by night.
Never a bird of the air could say,
'This was the children of Israel's way.'

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To Bessie Drennan

© Mark Doty


Bessie, you've made space dizzy
with your perfected technique for snow:
white spatters and a dry brush
feathering everything in the world

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Largo E Mesto

© William Ernest Henley

Out of the poisonous East,

  Over a continent of blight,

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To The Recluse, Wei Pa

© Du Fu

Often in this life of ours we resemble, in our failure to meet, the Shen and
Shang constellations, one of which rises as the other one sets. What lucky
chance is it, then, that brings us together this evening under the light of
this same lamp? Youth and vigor last but a little time. -- Each of us now has

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Sub Terra

© William Carlos Williams

Where shall I find you—  

You, my grotesque fellows  

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Woolworth's

© Mark Hillringhouse

for Greg FallonA kid yells "Mother Fucker" out the school bus window.
I don't think anyone notices the afternoon clouds turning pink along the horizon,
sunlight dripping down the stone facades,
the ancient names of old stores fading like the last century

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The Meditation Of The Old Fisherman

© William Butler Yeats

YOU waves, though you dance by my feet like children

at play,

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Homesick In Heaven

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

THE DIVINE VOICE
Go seek thine earth-born sisters,--thus the Voice
That all obey,--the sad and silent three;
These only, while the hosts of Heaven rejoice,
Smile never; ask them what their sorrows be;

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Stupra II

© Arthur Rimbaud

Our buttocks are not theirs.
I have often seen people unbuttoned behind some hedge;
and, in those shameless bathings where children are gay,
I used to observe the form and performance of our arse.