Mom poems

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From The Sunshine of the Gods

© James Bayard Taylor

AH, moment not to be purchased,

Not to be won by prayer,

Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking

© Walt Whitman

Shine! shine! shine!
Pour down your warmth, great sun!
While we bask, we two together.

Morning Rain

© Du Fu

A slight rain comes, bathed in dawn light.
I hear it among treetop leaves before mist
Arrives. Soon it sprinkles the soil and,
Windblown, follows clouds away. Deepened

The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.

© Anne Bradstreet

Great Alexander was wise Philips son,

He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;

Vision of Columbus Book 3

© Joel Barlow

Now, twice twelve years, the children of the skies

Beheld in peace their growing empire rise;

God

© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin

O Thou, who's infinite in space,

Alive in ever-moving matter,

ARGUMENT. The Nymphs, who preside over springs and rivulets, are addressed at day-break, in honor of their several functions, and of the relations which they bear to the natural and to the moral world. Their origin is deduced from the first allegorical deities, or powers of nature; according to the doctrine of the old mythological poets, concerning the generation of the gods and the rise of things. They are then successively considered, as giving motion to the air and exciting summer-breezes; as nourishing and beautifying the vegetable creation; as contributing to the fullness of navigable rivers, and consequently to the maintenance of commerce; and by that means, to the maritime part of military power. Next is represented their favourable influence upon health, when assisted by rural exercise: which introduces their connection with the art of physic, and the happy effects of mineral medicinal springs. Lastly, they are celebrated for the friendship which the Muses bear them, and for the true inspiration which temperance only can receive: in opposition to the enthusiasm of the more licentious poets.

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Hamlet As Told On The Street

© Sheldon Allan Silverstein

Well, that was the end of our sweet prince,
He died in confusion and nobodys seen him since.
And the moral of the story is bells do get out of tune
And you can find shit in a silver spoon
And an old mans revenge can be a young mans ruin
Oh and never look too close at what your mamma is doin.

A Face

© Robert Browning

If one could have that little head of hers

Painted upon a background of pure gold,

The Princess (part 7)

© Alfred Tennyson

'If you be, what I think you, some sweet dream,
I would but ask you to fulfil yourself:
But if you be that Ida whom I knew,
I ask you nothing: only, if a dream,
Sweet dream, be perfect. I shall die tonight.
Stoop down and seem to kiss me ere I die.'

The Power of Art

© George Santayana

Not human art, but living gods alone

Can fashion beauties that by changing live,-

So Far, So Near

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

THOU so far, we grope to grasp thee
Thou, so near, we cannot clasp thee
Thou, so wise, our prayers grow heedless
Thou, so loving, they are needless!

The Waggoner - Canto First

'TIS spent--this burning day of June!
Soft darkness o'er its latest gleams is stealing;
The buzzing dor-hawk, round and round, is wheeling,--
That solitary bird

In Vain

PUT every tiny robe away!
The stitches all were set with tears,
Slow, tender drops of joys; to-day
Their rain would wither hopes or fears:
Bitter enough to daunt the moth
That longs to fret this dainty cloth.