Children poems
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The Tree's Prayer
© George MacDonald
Alas, 'tis cold and dark!
The wind all night hath sung a wintry tune!
Hail from black clouds that swallowed up the moon
Beat, beat against my bark.
Tale II
© George Crabbe
frame.
Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay,
Was Allen landing in his native bay,
Willing his breathless form should blend with
The Regiment of Princes
© Thomas Hoccleve
Musynge upon the restlees bysynesse
Which that this troubly world hath ay on honde,
A Thanksgiving and Prayer for the Nation
© Thomas Traherne
From A Serious and Pathetical Contemplation of the Mercies of God
O Lord, the children of my people are Thy peculiar treasures,
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Prefatory Dialogue
© John Kenyon
Ye, thus who write in spite of critic law,
How had their satire kept your freaks in awe!
And, to sole sway controlling her pretence,
Bound Fancy down to compromise with Sense!
Children. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Come to me, O ye children!
For I hear you at your play,
And the questions that perplexed me
Have vanished quite away.
My Daughters In New York
© James Reiss
What streets, what taxis transport them
over bridges & speed bumps-my daughters swift
The Pathfinders
© Vance Palmer
NIGHT, and a bitter sky, and strange birds crying,
The wan trees whisper and the winds make moan,
Here where in ultimate peace their bones are lying
In gaunt waste places that they made their own,
Beyond the ploughed lands where the corn is sown.
Totem
© Sylvia Plath
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver,
It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter X - The Pope
© Robert Browning
Then Stephen, Pope and seventh of the name,
Cried out, in synod as he sat in state,
While choler quivered on his brow and beard,
Come into court, Formosus, thou lost wretch,
That claimedst to be late the Pope as I!
Hymns to the Night : 6 : Longing for Death
© Novalis
Blessed be the everlasting Night,
And blessed the endless slumber.
We are heated by the day too bright,
And withered up with care.
We're weary of a life abroad,
And we now want our Father's home.
The Fairies Farewell, or God a Mercy Will
© Richard Corbet
Farewell, rewards and fairies,
Good housewives now may say,
The Boss Over the Board
© Henry Lawson
When hes over a rough and unpopular shed,
With the sins of the bank and the men on his head;
The Three Trees
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The oak is a brave tree that groweth in the wood
The oak, and the pine, and the aspen tree
Italy : 2. Meillerie
© Samuel Rogers
These grey majestic cliffs that tower to heaven,
These glimmering glades and open chestnut-groves,
That echo to the heifer's wandering bell,
Or woodman's axe, or steers-man's song beneath,
My Playmate
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The pines were dark on Ramoth hill,
Their song was soft and low;
The blossoms in the sweet May wind
Were falling like the snow.
