Children poems
/ page 46 of 244 /
Manchester By Night
© Mathilde Blind
Now toiling multitudes that hustling crush
Each other in the fateful strife for breath,
And, hounded on by diverse hungers, rush
Across the prostrate ones that groan beneath,
Are swathed within the universal hush,
As life exchanges semblances with death.
The Witch of Wenham
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I.
Along Crane River's sunny slopes
Blew warm the winds of May,
And over Naumkeag's ancient oaks
The green outgrew the gray.
The Idumean Cantos 1-12
© Basilio Ponce de Leon
Along the bridge corpulence
In the form of great pigs
Hopping on pogo-sticks
Is headed for their own
Pilgrimage down Southward.
The Inca
© Louisa Stuart Costello
'Tis eve, the sun is sinking in the lake
The lake, all glorious with his golden beams,
A Desolate Shore
© William Ernest Henley
A desolate shore,
The sinister seduction of the Moon,
The menace of the irreclaimable Sea.
Geometry
© John Crowe Ransom
Hickory shoots unnumbered rise,
Sallow and wasting themselves in sighs,
Children begot at a criminal rate
In the sight of a God that is profligate.
Sabbath Sonnet
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
How many blessed groups this hour are bending,
Through England's primrose meadow-paths, their way
Towards spire and tower, 'midst shadowy elms ascending,
Whence the sweet chimes proclaim the hallowed day!
Eidolons
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Those forms we fancy shadows, those strange lights
That flash on lone morasses, the quick wind
Mother Nature
© George MacDonald
Beautiful mother is busy all day,
So busy she neither can sing nor say;
But lovely thoughts, in a ceaseless flow,
Through her eyes, and her ears, and her bosom go-
Motion, sight, and sound, and scent,
Weaving a royal, rich content.
Winter-Thought
© Archibald Lampman
These are the emblems of pure pleasures flown,
I scarce can think of pleasure without these.
Even to dream of them is to disown
The cold forlorn midwinter reveries,
Lulled with the perfume of old hopes new-blown,
No longer dreams, but dear realities.
Jamie's Puzzle
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
For me a dimness slowly creeps
Around earth's fairest light,
But heaven grows clearer to my view,
And fairer to my sight.
The Painter
© Edgar Albert Guest
When my hair is thin and silvered, an' my time of toil is through,
When I've many years behind me, an' ahead of me a few,
I shall want to sit, I reckon, sort of dreamin' in the sun,
An' recall the roads I've traveled an' the many things I've done,
An' I hope there'll be no picture that I'll hate to look upon
When the time to paint it better or to wipe it out is gone.
Easter-Day
© Robert Browning
XXXII.
Then did the Form expand, expand
I knew Him through the dread disguise,
As the whole God within his eyes
Embraced me.
To Ellinda, That Lately I Have Not Written
© Richard Lovelace
I.
If in me anger, or disdaine
In you, or both, made me refraine
From th' noble intercourse of verse,
Everywhere In America
© Edgar Albert Guest
Not somewhere in America, but everywhere to-day,
Where snow-crowned mountains hold their heads,
The Vision Of Augustine And Monica
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Mother, because thine eyes are sealed in sleep,
And thy cheeks pale, and thy lips cold, and deep
In silence plunged, so fathomlessly still
Thou liest, and relaxest all thy will,
I Told You So
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I know a little fellow, his name I think is Jo,
But he is seldom called by that-he has a queer nick-name,
Wherever he goes the children cry, "There comes 'I-told-you-so.'"
For that is what he always says in playing any game,
"I told you so! I told you so!
You see I was right when I told you so."
