Children poems
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The Death Of Huss
© Alfred Austin
In the streets of Constance was heard the shout,
``Masters! bring the arch-heretic out!''
The stake had been planted, the faggots spread,
And the tongues of the torches flickered red.
``Huss to the flames!'' they fiercely cried:
Then the gate of the Convent opened wide.
Sensation (Bodh)
© Jibanananda Das
As I take my place among other beings
Am I becoming estranged and alone
Because of my mannerisms?
Is there just an optical illusion?
Are there only obstacles in my path?
From The Italian
© Edith Nesbit
AS a little child whom his mother has chidden,
Wrecked in the dark in a storm of weeping,
Sleeps with his tear-stained eyes closed hidden
And, with fists clenched, sobs still in his sleeping,
Hope Is A Tattered Flag
© Carl Sandburg
Hope is a tattered flag and a dream of time.
Hope is a heartspun word, the rainbow, the shadblow in white
Poetry: A Metrical Essay, Read Before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, Harvard
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Scenes of my youth! awake its slumbering fire!
Ye winds of Memory, sweep the silent lyre!
Ray of the past, if yet thou canst appear,
Break through the clouds of Fancyâs waning year;
Chase from her breast the thin autumnal snow,
If leaf or blossom still is fresh below!
In an Almshouse
© Augusta Davies Webster
They said you were not pretty, owed your charm
to choice of ribbons from your father's shop,
but, as for me, I saw not if you wore
too many ribbons or too few, nor sought
what charms you had beyond that one I knew,
the kind and honest look in your grey eyes.
Epimetheus, or the Poet's Afterthought. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Have I dreamed? or was it real,
What I saw as in a vision,
When to marches hymeneal
In the land of the Ideal
Moved my thought o'er Fields Elysian?
Ralph Isham, 1753 And Later
© Eli Siegel
Know you him, O, him,
Who lived in those days?
He wore a gay coat,
And he stepped along, jauntily, jauntily,
"Earth's children cleave to Earth"
© William Cullen Bryant
Earth's children cleave to Earth--her frail
Decaying children dread decay.
Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 OClock Poems)
© Nazim Hikmet
Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...
The Victory
© Robert Southey
Hark--how the church-bells thundering harmony
Stuns the glad ear! tidings of joy have come,
The Poor Children
© Victor Marie Hugo
Take heed of this small child of earth;
He is great; he hath in him God most high.
Don Juan: Canto The Seventeenth
© George Gordon Byron
The world is full of orphans: firstly, those
Who are so in the strict sense of the phrase
The Pathos Of Applause
© James Whitcomb Riley
The greeting of the company throughout
Was like a jubilee,--the children's shout
The Hired Man And Floretty
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Hired Man's supper, which he sat before,
In near reach of the wood-box, the stove-door
And one leaf of the kitchen-table, was
Somewhat belated, and in lifted pause
His dextrous knife was balancing a bit
Of fried mush near the port awaiting it.
Verse
© Nizar Qabbani
1
Friends
The old word is dead.
The old books are dead.
Our speech with holes like worn-out shoes is dead.
Dead is the mind that led to defeat.
Consolation
© Anonymous
The mother drew the baby to her knee,
And, smiling, said: "The stars shine soft tonight;
My world is fair; its edges sweet to me,
And whatsoever is, dear Lord, is right."
The Quaker Widow
© James Bayard Taylor
THEE finds me in the garden, Hannah,come in! T is kind of thee
To wait until the Friends were gone, who came to comfort me.
The still and quiet company a peace may give, indeed,
But blessed is the single heart that comes to us at need.
