Children poems
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Homing Swallows
© Claude McKay
Swift swallows sailing from the Spanish main,
O rain-birds racing merrily away
From hill-tops parched with heat and sultry plain
Of wilting plants and fainting flowers, say-
Ode To Walt Whitman
© Stephen Vincent Benet
"Let me taste all, my flesh and my fat are sweet,
My body hardy as lilac, the strong flower.
I have tasted the calamus; I can taste the nightbane."
Perdita
© Rolf Boldrewood
She is beautiful yet, with her wondrous hair
And eyes that are stormy with fitful light,
The delicate hues of brow and cheek
Are unmarred all, rose-clear and bright;
That matchless frame yet holds at bay
The crouching bloodhounds, Remorse, Decay.
Thirty Bob a Week
© John Davidson
I couldn't touch a stop and turn a screw,
And set the blooming world a-work for me,
Like such as cut their teeth -- I hope, like you --
On the handle of a skeleton gold key;
I cut mine on a leek, which I eat it every week:
I'm a clerk at thirty bob as you can see.
The Wizard Way
© Aleister Crowley
He had crucified a toad
In the basilisk abode,
Muttering the Runes averse
Mad with many a mocking curse.
The Garden of Janus
© Aleister Crowley
IThe cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam.
The vault yet blazes with the sun
Writhing above the West, brave hippodrome
Whose gladiators shock and shun
The Four Winds
© Aleister Crowley
The South wind said to the palms:
My lovers sing me psalms;
But are they as warm as those
That Laylah's lover knows?
The Disciples
© Aleister Crowley
Beneath the vine tree and the fig
Where mortal cares may not intrude,
On melon and on sucking pig
Although their brains are bright and big
Banquet the Great White Brotherhood.
A Psalm Of The Unseen Altar
© Henry Van Dyke
Man the maker of cities is also a builder of altars:
Among his habitations he setteth tables for his god.
No Children, No Pets by Sue Ellen Thompson: American Life in Poetry #89 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laurea
© Ted Kooser
Loss can defeat us or serve as the impetus for positive change. Here, Sue Ellen Thompson of Connecticut shows us how to mourn inevitable changes, tuck the memories away, then go on to see the possibility of a new and promising chapter in one's life.
A Defence Of English Spring
© Alfred Austin
Unnamed, unknown, but surely bred
Where Thames, once silver, now runs lead,
Dionysus
© Aleister Crowley
I bring ye wine from above,
From the vats of the storied sun;
For every one of yer love,
And life for every one.
The Borough. Letter XII: Players
© George Crabbe
DRAWN by the annual call, we now behold
Our Troop Dramatic, heroes known of old,
And those, since last they march'd, enlisted and
Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 07 - Beginnings Of Civilization
© Lucretius
Afterwards,
When huts they had procured and pelts and fire,
And when the woman, joined unto the man,
Withdrew with him into one dwelling place,
A Birthday
© Aleister Crowley
Then Easter, and the days of all delight!
God's sun lit noontide and his moon midnight,
While above all, true centre of our world,
True source of light, our great love passion-pearled
Gave all its life and splendour to the sea
Above whose tides stood our stability.
The Dying Child
© John Clare
He could not die when trees were green,
For he loved the time too well.
His little hands, when flowers were seen,
Were held for the bluebell,
As he was carried o'er the green.
Niobe In Distress For Her Children Slain By Apollo, From Ovid's Metamorphoses, Book VI. And Fro
© Phillis Wheatley
Apollo's wrath to man the dreadful spring
Of ills innum'rous, tuneful goddess, sing!
A Song Before Sailing
© Bliss William Carman
I call from room to room
Through the deserted gloom;
The echoes are all words I know,
Lost in some long ago.
Not to sleep
© Robert Graves
Not to sleep all the night long, for pure joy,
Counting no sheep and careless of chimes
Welcoming the dawn confabulation
Of birch, her children, who discuss idly
The Next War
© Robert Graves
You young friskies who today
Jump and fight in Fathers hay
With bows and arrows and wooden spears,
Playing at Royal Welch Fusiliers,
