Children poems
/ page 200 of 244 /Deptford
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Well is it, shrouded Sun, thou spar'st no ray
To illumine this sad street! A light more bare
Would but discover more this bald array
Of roofs dejected, window patched that stare
An Ode to the Queen on Her Jubilee Year
© William Topaz McGonagall
Sound drums and trumpets, far and near!
And Let all Queen Victoria's subjects loudly cheer!
And show by their actions that they revere,
Because she's served them faithfully fifty long year!
Titian
© Vachel Lindsay
Would that such hills and cities round us sang,
Such vistas of the actual earth and man
Washington McNeely
© Edgar Lee Masters
Rich, honored by my fellow citizens,
The father of many children, born of a noble mother,
By Heraclides
© William Cowper
In Cnidus born, the consort I became
Of Euphron. Aretimias was my name.
Gentleness
© Archibald Lampman
How beautiful is gentleness, whose face
Like April sunshine, or the summer rain,
Swells everywhere the buds of generous thought?
So easy, and so sweet it is; its grace
Smoothes out so soon the tangled knots of pain.
Can ye not learn it? will ye not be taught?
The French Mariner
© Robert Bloomfield
An Old _French Mariner_ am I,
Whom Time hath render'd poor and gray;
Hear, conquering _Britons_, ere I die,
What anguish prompts me thus to say.
The Hanging Of Levski
© Hristo Botev
O you, my Mother, my Native Land,
Why is your cry so sad and heart-rending!
And you, O Raven, accursed bird,
On whose grave croak you of ill impending?
To Jeoffry His Cat
© Christopher Smart
For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily
The Marriage Of Tirzah And Ahirad
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Round the dark curtains of the fiery throne
Pauses awhile the voice of sacred song:
From all the angelic ranks goes forth a groan,
'How long, O Lord, how long?'
The still small voice makes answer, 'Wait and see,
Oh sons of glory, what the end shall be.'
The Children
© Rudyard Kipling
They bought us anew with their blood, forbearing to blame us,
Those hours which we had not made good when the Judgment o'ercame us.
They believed us and perished for it. Our statecraft, our learning
Delivered them bound to the Pit and alive to the burning
Whither they mirthfully hastened as jostling for honour.
Not since her birth has our Earth seen such worth loosed upon her!
Where Children Play
© Edgar Albert Guest
On every street there's a certain place
Where the children gather to romp and race;
Every Silent Plant in the Garden
© Sukasah Syahdan
every silent plant in the garden knows
two sorts of wishes make up the world:
one is conceived in heaven, the other in hell
the earth buttoned its lip, too humble to tell
Either
© Sukasah Syahdan
if you are young and bright
at one and twenty, go to a:if you are old and gray
at one and sixty, see b:a)
scorn these lines,
Charlene-n-Booker 4ever
© Forrest Hamer
And the old men, supervising grown grandsons, nephews,
any man a boy given this chance of making
a new sidewalk outside the apartment building where
some of them live, three old men and their wives,
Docker
© Seamus Justin Heaney
There, in the corner, staring at his drink.
The cap juts like a gantry's crossbeam,
Cowling plated forehead and sledgehead jaw.
Speech is clamped in the lips' vice.
Grandmothers Teaching
© Alfred Austin
``Grandmother dear, you do not know; you have lived the old-world life,
Under the twittering eaves of home, sheltered from storm and strife;
Rocking cradles, and covering jams, knitting socks for baby feet,
Or piecing together lavender bags for keeping the linen sweet:
Daughter, wife, and mother in turn, and each with a blameless breast,
Then saying your prayers when the nightfall came, and quietly dropping to rest.