Children poems
/ page 87 of 244 /Achan
© Henry Kendall
I know how it is with the daughter of Jephthah,
(O Ada, my love, and the fairest of women!)
She wails in the time when her heart is so zealous
For God who hath stricken the children of Ammon.
The Portent
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, late withdrawn from human-kind
And following dreams we never knew!
Varus, what dream has Fate assigned
To trouble you?
Naturethe Gentlest Mother is
© Emily Dickinson
Naturethe Gentlest Mother is,
Impatient of no Child
The feeblestor the waywardest
Her Admonition mild
Sumner
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O Mother State! the winds of March
Blew chill o'er Auburn's Field of God,
Where, slow, beneath a leaden arch
Of sky, thy mourning children trod.
Youth
© Arthur Rimbaud
I.
_Sunday_
Problems put by, the inevitable descent of heaven
and the visit of memories and the assembly
of rhythms occupy the house,
the head and the world of the spirit. --
The Bonny Brown Hand
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
OH, drearily, how drearily, the sombre eve comes down!
And wearily, how wearily, the seaward breezes blow!
But place your little hand in mine--so dainty, yet so brown!
For household toil hath worn away its rosy-tinted snow:
Must Be Freed
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
The ante-bellum Negro prayed,
For God to intercede,
And God in answer to him said,
"Your children shall be freed."
Long, Too Long America
© Walt Whitman
Long, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn'd from joys and prosperity only,
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grappling with direst fate and recoiling not,
And now to conceive and show to the world what your children en-masse really are,
(For who except myself has yet conceiv'd what your children en-masse really are?)
"There Stands A City"
© Charles Stuart Calverley
Ingoldsby
Year by year do Beauty's daughters,
In the sweetest gloves and shawls,
Troop to taste the Chattenham waters,
And adorn the Chattenham balls.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
The Younger Brutus
© Giacomo Leopardi
When in the Thracian dust uprooted lay,
In ruin vast, the strength of Italy,
A Child's Battles
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Praise of the knights of old
May sleep: their tale is told,
And no man cares:
The praise which fires our lips is
A knight's whose fame eclipses
All of theirs.
Angkor
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
Out of the Forest into a terrible splendour
Of noon, the pinnacles of the temple--portals,
Stone Faces, immense in carven ruin
Above the trembling of giant trees emerge.
Peter Bell The Third
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.
The Gleaner
© Virna Sheard
As children gather daisies down green ways
Mid butterflies and bees,
To-day across the meadows of past days
I gathered memories.
Cleaning The Furnace
© Edgar Albert Guest
Last night Pa said to Ma: "My dear, it's gettin' on to fall,
It's time I did a little job I do not like at all.
I wisht 'at I was rich enough to hire a man to do
The dirty work around this house an' clean up when he's through,
But since I'm not, I'm truly glad that I am strong an' stout,
An' ain't ashamed to go myself an' clean the furnace out."
Macleay Street and Red Rock Lane
© Henry Lawson
MACLEAY STREET looks to Mosman,
Across the other side,
Expostulation
© John Greenleaf Whittier
OUR fellow-countrymen in chains!
Slaves, in a land of light and law!