Children poems
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The Cenci : A Tragedy In Five Acts
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Scene I.
-An Apartment in the Cenci Palace.
Enter Count Cenci, and Cardinal Camillo.
Recompense: (For Lord Kilhacken)
© Katharine Tynan
That which I saved I lost
And that I lost I found,
And you are mine, oh tender little ghost,
Whose grave is holy ground.
The Fiddle And The Crowd
© Roderic Quinn
WHEN the day was at its middle,
Tired of limb and slow of pace,
Came a fiddler with his fiddle
To a crowded market place;
Nathan The Wise - Act I
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
O Nathan, Nathan,
How miserable you had nigh become
During this little absence; for your house -
Sonnet VIII
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
How many masks wear we, and undermasks,
Upon our countenance of soul, and when,
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto III.
© George Gordon Byron
I.
Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child!
In The Harbour: The Children's Crusade
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O the simple, child-like trust!
O the faith that could believe
What the harnessed, iron-mailed
Knights of Christendom had failed,
By their prowess, to achieve,
They, the children, could and must!
The Garden
© Margaret Widdemer
THERE were many flowers in my mother's garden,
Sword-leaved gladiolus, taller far than I,
Sticky-leaved petunias, pink and purple-flaring,
Velvet-painted pansies staring at the sky;
Empire Building
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
"I'll teach them how to work, and how to pray."
Oh, John, you never think before your day
Rome was, Greece wascan one believe it true?
Great Egypt died, and never heard of you!
Hymn of The Dunkers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Wake, sisters, wake! the day-star shines;
Above Ephrata's eastern pines
The dawn is breaking, cool and calm.
Wake, sisters, wake to prayer and psalm!
Arisen At Last
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I SAID I stood upon thy grave,
My Mother State, when last the moon
Of blossoms clomb the skies of June.
And, scattering ashes on my head,
Pity For Poor Africans
© William Cowper
I own I am shocked at the purchase of slaves,
And fear those who buy them and sell them are knaves;
What I hear of their hardships, their tortures, and groans
Is almost enough to draw pity from stones.
Consolation of Early Death
© Beaumont and Fletcher
Sweet prince, the name of Death was never terrible
To him that knew to live; nor the loud torrent
Ego
© John Greenleaf Whittier
On page of thine I cannot trace
The cold and heartless commonplace,
A statue's fixed and marble grace.
Eloped
© Hristo Botev
In the glade a pipe is played,
By the forest green and still,
Where Stoyana, fair, sweet maid,
Runs for water to the rill.
The Four Children
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Linking her chain sweet Geraldine said,
"Big John or James I will surely wed;
I soon must choose which shall best please me,
I care not at all for little Benjie."
"The 5:32"
© Phyllis McGinley
She said, If tomorrow my world were torn in two,
Blacked out, dissolved, I think I would remember
The Simple Things
© Edgar Albert Guest
I would not be too wise--so very wise
That I must sneer at simple songs and creeds,
And let the glare of wisdom blind my eyes
To humble people and their humble needs.
The House Of Dust: {Complete}
© Conrad Aiken
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
