Mom poems

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Dear Doctor, I have Read your Play

© Lord Byron

Dear Doctor, I have read your play,


Which is a good one in its way,

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The Candidate

© Charles Churchill

This poem was written in , on occasion of the contest between the

  Earls of Hardwicke and Sandwich for the High-stewardship of the

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Above The Gaspereau

© Bliss William Carman

How still through the sweet summer sun, through the soft summer rain,
They have stood there awaiting the summons should bid them attain
The freedom of knowledge, the last touch of truth to explain
The great golden gist of their brooding, the marvellous train
Of thought they have followed so far, been so strong to sustain,—
The white gospel of sun and the long revelations of rain!

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In Chandler Country

© Dana Gioia

Relentlessly the wind blows on. Next door 
catching a scent, the dogs begin to howl. 
Lean, furious, raw-eyed from the storm, 
packs of coyotes come down from the hills 
where there is nothing left to hunt.

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Grown about by Fragrant Bushes

© Robert Louis Stevenson

Grown about by fragrant bushes,


Sunken in a winding valley,

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Lancelot And Elaine

© Alfred Tennyson

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

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Spring Snow

© Michael Rosen

A kind of counter-

blossoming, diversionary,

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Haschisch

© Arthur Symons

Behind the door, beyond the light,
Who is it waits there in the night?
When he has entered he will stand,
Imposing with his silent hand
Some silent thing upon the night.

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Land

© Agha Shahid Ali

For Christopher Merrill
Swear by the olive in the God-kissed land—
There is no sugar in the promised land.

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Beyond The Potomac

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

THEY slept on the field which their valor had won,
But arose with the first early blush of the sun,
For they knew that a great deed remained to be done,
When they passed o'er the river.

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At the New Year

© Kenneth Patchen

In the shape of this night, in the still fall

      of snow, Father

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Paradise Lost : Book X.

© John Milton


Mean while the heinous and despiteful act

Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how

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The Troubadour. Canto 4

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

But he was safe!--that very day
Farewell, it had been her's to say;
And he was gone to his own land,
To seek another maiden's hand.

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When You Are Old

© William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

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Love Song: I and Thou

© Alan Dugan

Nothing is plumb, level, or square:

  the studs are bowed, the joists

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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Finale

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

These are the tales those merry guests
Told to each other, well or ill;
Like summer birds that lift their crests
Above the borders of their nests
And twitter, and again are still.

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Messiah (Christmas Portions)

© Mark Doty

A little heat caught
in gleaming rags,
in shrouds of veil,
 torn and sun-shot swaddlings:

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Pajama Quotient

© Michael Rosen

Coinage of the not-yet-wholly-
            hardened custodians of public
health, as health is roughly measured
           ?in the rougher parts of Dearborn.

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Jessie Mitchell’s Mother

© Gwendolyn Brooks

Into her mother’s bedroom to wash the ballooning body. 

“My mother is jelly-hearted and she has a brain of jelly: 

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Immortal Sails

© Alfred Noyes

Now, in a breath, we’ll burst those gates of gold, 
 And ransack heaven before our moment fails. 
Now, in a breath, before we, too, grow old,
 We’ll mount and sing and spread immortal sails.