Children poems
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The Black Sheep
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
"Black sheep, black sheep, have you any wool?"
"Yes, sir-yes, sir: a whole world full."
Children's Rhymes
© Langston Hughes
Lies written down
For white folks
Ain't for us a-tall:
Liberty And Justice;
Huh! For All!
To-Morrow
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The children out on the common,
They answer her dreary call,
And say, "He will come to-morrow!"
Who never will come at all.
Maude.
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
A BALLAD OF THE OLDEN TIME.
Around the castle turrets fiercely moaned the autumn blast,
And within the old lords daughter seemed dying, dying fast;
While oer her couch in frenzied grief the stricken father bent,
And in deep sobs and stifled moans his anguish wild found vent.
The Stern Parent
© Harry Graham
Father heard his Children scream,
So he threw them in the stream,
Saying, as he drowned the third,
"Children should be seen, not heard!"
A Parable
© James Russell Lowell
Worn and footsore was the Prophet,
When he gained the holy hill;
'God has left the earth,' he murmured,
'Here his presence lingers still.
When Day Is Done
© Edgar Albert Guest
When day is done and the night slips down,
And I've turned my back on the busy town,
And come once more to the welcome gate
Where the roses nod and the children wait,
I tell myself as I see them smile
That life is good and its tasks worth while.
Fire Pictures
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O! THE rolling, rushing fire!
O! the fire!
How it rages, wilder, higher,
Like a hot heart's fierce desire,
Mostly Slavonic
© Henry Lawson
But they never dreamed, the brainless, boors that used to sneer and scoff,
That the dreamy lad beside themknown as Dutchy Mickyloff
Was a genius and a poet, and a Manno matter which
Was the Czar of all the Russias!Peter Michaelovich.
Srahmandazi
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Deep embowered beside the forest river,
Where the flame of sunset only falls,
Lapped in silence lies the House of Dying,
House of them to whom the twilight calls.
A Fable For Critics
© James Russell Lowell
'Why, nothing of consequence, save this attack
On my friend there, behind, by some pitiful hack,
Who thinks every national author a poor one,
That isn't a copy of something that's foreign,
And assaults the American Dick--'
Mater Dolorosa
© William Barnes
I'D a dream to-night
As I fell asleep,
O! the touching sight
Makes me still to weep:
The Earth-Mother
© Frank Dalby Davison
COMETH a voice:My children, hear;
From the crowded street and the close-packed mart
Letter From The Town Mouse To The Country Mouse
© Horace Smith
I.
Oh for a field, my friend; oh for a field!
The Bell-Founder Part II - Triumph And Reward
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
In the furnace the dry branches crackle, the crucible shines as with
gold,
As they carry the hot flaming metal in haste from the fire to the mould;
Loud roars the bellows, and louder the flames as they shrieking escape,
My Little Boy That Died
© Henry Austin Dobson
Look at his pretty face for just one minute !
His braided frock and dainty buttoned shoes,
His firm-shut hand, the favorite plaything in it,
Then, tell me, mothers, was it not hard to lose
And miss him from my side,
My little boy that died?
The Folk-Mote By The River
© William Morris
And now we saw the banners borne
On the first of the way that we had shorn;
So we laid the scythe upon the sward
And girt us to the battle-sword.
