Mom poems
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Remembered Music
© James Russell Lowell
Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast
Of bisons the far prairie shaking,
The notes crowd heavily and fast
As surfs, one plunging while the last
Draws seaward from its foamy breaking.
The Shepherd's Calendar - October
© John Clare
Nature now spreads around in dreary hue
A pall to cover all that summer knew
A Walk By Moonlight
© Henry Louis Vivian Derozio
I had been out to see a friend
With whom I others saw:
Like minds to like minds ever tend -
An universal law.
The Princes' Quest - Part the Seventh
© William Watson
But Sleep, who makes a mist about the sense,
Doth ope the eyelids of the soul, and thence
Love, Love
© Pedro Calderon de la Barca
What is the glory far above
All else in human life?
Love! Love!
There is no form in which the fire
An Indian Mother About to Destroy Her Child
© James Montgomery
Awhile she lay all passive to the touch
The Lucayan's Song
© Amelia Opie
Hail, lonely shore! hail, desert cave!
To you, o'erjoyed, from men I fly,
And here I'll make my early grave….
For what can misery do but die?
The Siege Of Corinth
© George Gordon Byron
XXVII.
Still the old man stood erect,
And Alp's career a moment check'd.
"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
For thine own, thy daughter's sake."
Alice And Una. A Tale Of Ceim-An-Eich
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
With a sigh for what is fading, but, O Earth! with no upbraiding,
For we feel that time is braiding newer, fresher flowers for thee,
We will speak, despite our grieving, words of loving and believing,
Tales we vowed when we were leaving awful Ceim-an-eich,
Where the sever'd rocks resemble fragments of a frozen sea,
And the wild deer flee!
A Low Temple
© Arun Kolatkar
A low temple keeps its gods in the dark.
You lend a matchbox to the priest.
One by one the gods come to light.
On Being Twenty-six
© Philip Larkin
I feared these present years,
The middle twenties,
When deftness disappears,
And each event is
Freighted with a source-encrusting doubt,
And turned to drought.
In The Servants' Quarters
© Thomas Hardy
'Man, you too, aren't you, one of these rough followers of the criminal?
All hanging hereabout to gather how he's going to bear
Examination in the hall.' She flung disdainful glances on
The shabby figure standing at the fire with others there,
Who warmed them by its flare.
Biography
© John Masefield
Yet when I am dust my penman may not know
Those water-trampling ships which made me glow,
But think my wonder mad and fail to find,
Their glory, even dimly, from my mind,
And yet they made me:
The Aziola
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
'Do you not hear the Aziola cry?
Methinks she must be nigh,'
Said Mary, as we sate
Out Of Pompeii
© William Wilfred Campbell
She lay, face downward, on her beaded arm,
In this her new, sweet dream of human bliss,
Her heart within her fearful, fluttering, warm,
Her lips yet pained with love's first timorous kiss.
The Legend Of The Crossbill. (From The German Of Julius Mosen)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On the cross the dying Saviour
Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm,
Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling
In his pierced and bleeding palm.
A Parting
© Edith Nesbit
So good-bye!
This is where we end it, you and I.
Life's to live, you know, and death's to die;
So good-bye!
Within and Without: Part II: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
Julian.
Hm! ah! I see.
What kind of man is this Nembroni, nurse?
The Silver Horn
© Henry Clay Work
"Come, rest with me now, my silver horn!
My melodious joy, my silver horn!
