Children poems
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A Legend Of Christ's Nativity
© Duncan Campbell Scott
At Bethlehem upon the hill,
The day was done, the night was nigh,
The dusk was deep and had its will,
The stars were very small and still,
Like unblown tapers, faint and high.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 18
© William Langland
Wolleward and weetshoed wente I forth after
As a recchelees renk that [reccheth of no wo],
My Fore-Elders
© William Barnes
When from the child, that still is led
By hand, a father's hand is gone, ---
Unimportant Differences
© Edgar Albert Guest
If he is honest, kindly, true,
And glad to work from day to day;
"Back again, back again!"
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Back again, back again!
We are passing back again;
We are ceasing to be men!
Without the strife
The Twenty-Second Of December
© William Cullen Bryant
Wild was the day; the wintry sea
Moaned sadly on New-England's strand,
When first the thoughtful and the free,
Our fathers, trod the desert land.
Paracelsus: Part III: Paracelsus
© Robert Browning
Paracelsus.
Heap logs and let the blaze laugh out!
Idyll XXIV. The Infant Heracles
© Theocritus
"Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious sleep,
Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life:
Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!"
Ode On The Istallation of the Duke of Devonshire
© Charles Kingsley
Hence a while, severer Muses;
Spare your slaves till drear October.
Repentance And Reconciliation
© Charles Lamb
MOTHER.
Your repentance, my children, I see is unfeigned,
You are now my good Robert, and now my good Jane;
And if you will never be naughty again,
Your fond mother will never look grave.
Malham Cove
© Robert Laurence Binyon
There is threat in the wind, and a murmur
of water that swells
Swift in the hollow: about me
a shadow is thrown;
I Grieved For Buonaparte
© William Wordsworth
I GRIEVED for Buonaparte, with a vain
And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood
Of that Man's mind--what can it be? what food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could 'he' gain?
The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - Ara Of The Saints
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Hearing how blessed Enda lived apart,
Amid the sacred caves of Ara-mhor,
And how beneath his eye, spread like a chart,
Lay all the isles of that remotest shore;
The Dance To Death. Act II
© Emma Lazarus
LANDGRAVE.
Who tells thee of my son's love for the Jewess?
The Revenge - A Ballad of the Fleet
© Alfred Tennyson
Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: 'I know you are no coward;
You fly them for a moment to fight with them again.
But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore.
I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard,
To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain.'
Hermann And Dorothea - IX. Urania
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
O YE Muses, who gladly favour a love that is heartfelt,
Who on his way the excellent youth have hitherto guided,
Who have press'd the maid to his bosom before their betrothal,
Help still further to perfect the bonds of a couple so loving,
Drive away the clouds which over their happiness hover!
But begin by saying what now in the house has been passing.
Love
© Joseph Brodsky
Twice I awoke this night, and went
to the window. The streetlamps were
a fragment of a sentence spoken in sleep,
leading to nothing, like omission points,
Vestigia Quinque Retrorsum
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
This is our golden year,--its golden day;
Its bridal memories soon must pass away;
Soon shall its dying music cease to ring,
And every year must loose some silver string,
Till the last trembling chords no longer thrill,--
Hands all at rest and hearts forever still.
Reminiscence
© Padraic Colum
Recalling long ago. And she will hop
The inches of her crib, this narrow shop,
When you step in to be her customer:
A bird of little worth, a sparrow, say,
Whose crib's in such neglected passageway
That one's left wondering who brings crumbs to her.
