Mom poems
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Parables And Riddles
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
A bridge of pearls its form uprears
High o'er a gray and misty sea;
E'en in a moment it appears,
And rises upwards giddily.
Honor To Woman
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
Honor to woman! To her it is given
To garden the earth with the roses of heaven!
All blessed, she linketh the loves in their choir
In the veil of the graces her beauty concealing,
She tends on each altar that's hallowed to feeling,
And keeps ever-living the fire!
Elegy On The Death Of A Young Man
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers,
Echo from the dreary house of woe;
Death-notes rise from yonder minster's towers!
Bearing out a youth, they slowly go;
Cassandra
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
Mirth the halls of Troy was filling,
Ere its lofty ramparts fell;
From the golden lute so thrilling
Hymns of joy were heard to swell.
Hamlet Off-Stage: Hambeau Heartbroke Horny
© D. C. Berry
Ophelia claims we're dead and gives me back
all my Frank Zappa and the Mothers albums.
I nearly claw out of my shell and say,
"You can't," but for a moment I've nothing
Song of the Indian Maid, from 'Endymion'
© John Keats
O SORROW!
Why dost borrow
The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips?--
To give maiden blushes
To the white rose bushes?
Or is it thy dewy hand the daisy tips?
Fancy
© John Keats
Ever let the Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home:
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;
To G.A.W.
© John Keats
Nymph of the downward smile and sidelong glance!
In what diviner moments of the day
Art thou most lovely?when gone far astray
Into the labyrinths of sweet utterance,
Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer's Tale Of The Flowre And The Lefe
© John Keats
This pleasant tale is like a little copse:
The honied lines so freshly interlace,
To keep the reader in so sweet a place,
So that he here and there full-hearted stops;
Isabella or The Pot of Basil
© John Keats
I.
Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel!
Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye!
They could not in the self-same mansion dwell
Endymion: Book II
© John Keats
He heard but the last words, nor could contend
One moment in reflection: for he fled
Into the fearful deep, to hide his head
From the clear moon, the trees, and coming madness.
Endymion: Book III
© John Keats
"Young man of Latmos! thus particular
Am I, that thou may'st plainly see how far
This fierce temptation went: and thou may'st not
Exclaim, How then, was Scylla quite forgot?
Endymion: Book IV
© John Keats
Endymion to heaven's airy dome
Was offering up a hecatomb of vows,
When these words reach'd him. Whereupon he bows
His head through thorny-green entanglement
Of underwood, and to the sound is bent,
Anxious as hind towards her hidden fawn.
Hymn To Apollo
© John Keats
God of the golden bow,
And of the golden lyre,
And of the golden hair,
And of the golden fire,
Hither, Hither, Love
© John Keats
Hither hither, love---
'Tis a shady mead---
Hither, hither, love!
Let us feed and feed!
To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown
© John Keats
Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear
From my glad bosom,now from gloominess
I mount for evernot an atom less
Than the proud laurel shall content my bier.
Epistle To My Brother George
© John Keats
Full many a dreary hour have I past,
My brain bewildered, and my mind o'ercast
With heaviness; in seasons when I've thought
No spherey strains by me could e'er be caught
Endymion: Book I
© John Keats
This said, he rose, faint-smiling like a star
Through autumn mists, and took Peona's hand:
They stept into the boat, and launch'd from land.
Ode On Indolence
© John Keats
One morn before me were three figures seen,
I With bowed necks, and joined hands, side-faced;
And one behind the other stepp'd serene,
In placid sandals, and in white robes graced;
The Eve Of St. Agnes
© John Keats
St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:
