Children poems
/ page 199 of 244 /
Hamlet Micure
© Edgar Lee Masters
In a lingering fever many visions come to you:
I was in the little house again
With its great yard of clover
Running down to the board-fence,
Albert Schirding
© Edgar Lee Masters
Jonas Keene thought his lot a hard one
Because his children were all failures.
But I know of a fate more trying than that:
It is to be a failure while your children are successes.
Trainor the Druggist
© Edgar Lee Masters
Only the chemist can tell, and not always the chemist,
What will result from compounding
Fluids or solids.
And who can tell
Sersmith the Dentist
© Edgar Lee Masters
Do you think that odes and sermons,
And the ringing of church bells,
And the blood of old men and young men,
Martyred for the truth they saw
Elizabeth Childers
© Edgar Lee Masters
Dust of my dust,
And dust with my dust,
O, child who died as you entered the world,
Dead with my death!
The Municipal Gallery Revisited
© William Butler Yeats
AROUND me the images of thirty years:
An ambush; pilgrims at the water-side;
Mrs. Charles Bliss
© Edgar Lee Masters
Reverend Wiley advised me not to divorce him
For the sake of the children,
And Judge Somers advised him the same.
So we stuck to the end of the path.
Margaret Fuller Slack
© Edgar Lee Masters
I would have been as great as George Eliot
But for an untoward fate.
For look at the photograph of me made by Penniwit,
Chin resting on hand, and deep-set eyes --
Emily Sparks
© Edgar Lee Masters
Where is my boy, my boy --
In what far part of the world?
The boy I loved best of all in the school? --
I, the teacher, the old maid, the virgin heart,
Dr. Siegfried Iseman
© Edgar Lee Masters
I said when they handed me my diploma,
I said to myself I will be good
And wise and brave and helpful to others;
I said I will carry the Christian creed
Barry Holden
© Edgar Lee Masters
The very fall my sister Nancy Knapp
Set fire to the house
They were trying Dr. Duval
For the murder of Zora Clemens,
Lydia Humphrey
© Edgar Lee Masters
Back and forth, back and forth, to and from the church,
With my Bible under my arm
Till I was gray and old;
Unwedded, alone in the world,
The Hill
© Edgar Lee Masters
Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom, and Charley,
The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter?
All, all, are sleeping on the hill.
Lucinda Matlock
© Edgar Lee Masters
I went to the dances at Chandlerville,
And played snap-out at Winchester.
One time we changed partners,
Driving home in the midnight of middle June,
At The Gate
© Edith Nesbit
THE monastery towers, as pure and fair
As virgin vows, reached up white hands to Heaven;
The Sideboard
© Arthur Rimbaud
It is a high, carved sideboard made of oak.
The dark old wood, like old folks, seems kind;
Its drawers are open, and its odours soak
The darkness with the scent of strong old wine.
The Dance To Death. Act IV
© Emma Lazarus
The City Hall at Nordhausen. Deputies and Burghers assembling.
To the right, at a table near the President's chair, is seated
the Public Scrivener. Enter DIETRICH VON TETTENBORN, and HENRY
SCHNETZEN with an open letter in his hand.
The Beauty of Death XIV
© Khalil Gibran
Let me rest in the arms of Slumber, for my open eyes are tired;
Let the silver-stringed lyre quiver and soothe my spirit;
Weave from the harp and lute a veil around my withering heart.
