Mom poems
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A Legend of Service
© Henry Van Dyke
It pleased the Lord of Angels (praise His name!)
To hear, one day, report from those who came
Full Flight
© Richard Jones
I'm in a plane that will not be flown into a building.
It's a SAAB 340, seats 40, has two engines with propellers
Hysteria
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill
Equations of the Light
© Dana Gioia
Turning the corner, we discovered it
just as the old wrought-iron lamps went on—
a quiet, tree-lined street, only one block long
resting between the noisy avenues.
The Clan of MacCaura
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Oh! bright are the names of the chieftains and sages,
That shine like the stars through the darkness of ages,
Maud; A Monodrama (from Part II)
© Alfred Tennyson
O that 'twere possible
After long grief and pain
To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again!
Beowulf
© Charles Baudelaire
LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
Early Affection
© George Moses Horton
I lov’d thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty’s ray,
On A View Of Pasadena From The Hills
© Yvor Winters
From the high terrace porch I watch the dawn.
No light appears, though dark has mostly gone,
The Soul Of The Anzac
© Roderic Quinn
THE form that was mine was brown and hard,
And thewed and muscled, and tall and straight;
from The Prelude: Book 2: School-time (Continued)
© André Breton
Fare Thee well!
Health, and the quiet of a healthful mind
Attend thee! seeking oft the haunts of men,
And yet more often living with Thyself,
And for Thyself, so haply shall thy days
Be many, and a blessing to mankind.
The Idols
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I.2
The Forests of the Night awaken blind in heat
Of black stupor; and stirring in its deep retreat,
I hear the heart of Darkness slowly beat and beat.
Lohengrin
© Emma Lazarus
THE holy bell, untouched by human hands,
Clanged suddenly, and tolled with solemn knell.
Between the massive, blazoned temple-doors,
Thrown wide, to let the summer morning in,
Epitaph
© Katherine Philips
On her Son H.P. at St. Syths Church where her body also lies interred
What on Earth deserves our trust?
Structure of Rime XXVIII: In Memoriam Wallace Stevens
© Robert Duncan
“That God is colouring Newton doth shew”—William Blake
Erecting beyond the boundaries of all government his grand Station and Customs, I find what I have made there a Gate, a staking out of his art in Inconsequence. I have in mind a poetry that will frame the willingness of the heart and deliver it over to the arrest of Time, a sentence as if there could stand some solidity most spacial in its intent against the drifts and appearances that arise and fall away in time from the crude events of physical space. The Mind alone holds the consequence of the erection to be true, so that Desire and Imagination usurp the place of the Invisible Throne.
How We Made a New Art on Old Ground
© Eavan Boland
A famous battle happened in this valley.
You never understood the nature poem.
Till now. Till this moment—if these statements
seem separate, unrelated, follow this
To Thyrza: And Thou Art Dead, As Young And Fair
© George Gordon Byron
And thou art dead, as young and fair
As aught of mortal birth;
Division Of An Estate
© George Moses Horton
It well bespeaks a man beheaded, quite
Divested of the laurel robe of life,
When every member struggles for its base,
The head; the power of order now recedes,
