Mom poems
/ page 26 of 212 /My Cousin From Pall Mall
© Arthur Patchett Martin
Theres nothing so exasperates a true Australian youth,
Whatever be his rank in life, be he cultured or uncouth,
As the manner of a London swell. Now it chanced, the other day,
That one came out, consigned to mea cousin, by the way.
The Cup Of Comus
© Madison Julius Cawein
PROEM
THE Nights of song and story,
With breath of frost and rain,
Whose locks are wild and hoary,
To The Lacedemonians
© Allen Tate
Go you tell them
That we their servants, well-trained, gray-coated
And haired (both foot and horse) or in
The grave, them obey . . . obey them,
What commands?
The Last Song Of Camoens
© William Lisle Bowles
The morning shone on Tagus' rocky side,
And airs of summer swelled the yellow tide,
A Family Record
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WOODSTOCK, CONN., JULY 4, 1877
NOT to myself this breath of vesper song,
A Short Poem Written At The Moment When A Rising River Looked Like A Rolling Ocean
© Du Fu
I was stubborn by nature and addicted to perfect lines,
fought to the death to find words that startle.
Now in old age my poems flow out freely, the way
flowers and birds forget deep sorrow in spring.
Shakespeare?
© Robert Crawford
And what think ye of Shakespeare? 'Twas not he
Of Stratford is the lord of England's lyre;
Ay, not the rustic lad, whoe'er it be,
Momentous in his doing and desire.
Fragment of Ballad
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
How shall I sing? the thing I crave
To say is speechless as a Lover's trance.
How shall I give to thee
What even now is all so wholly thine
That but by losing thee in me
Or me in thee it never can be mine?
The Zucca
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
VII.
The Heavens had wept upon it, but the Earth
Had crushed it on her maternal breast
The Childless Father
© William Wordsworth
"UP, Timothy, up with your staff and away!
Not a soul in the village this morning will stay;
The hare has just started from Hamilton's grounds,
And Skiddaw is glad with the cry of the hounds."
The Little Gable Window
© Lucy Maud Montgomery
There's a little gable window in a cottage far away,
Where a child in purple twilights used to softly kneel and pray,
While across the marge of evening fell the darkness, and the stars
Peeped in tender benediction over Heaven's silver bars.
The Old Gray Wall
© Bliss William Carman
Children roving the fields
With early flowers in spring,
Old men turning to look,
When they heard a blue-bird sing,
On Seeing The Diabutsu--At Kamakura, Japan
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Long have I searched, Cathedral shrine, and hall,
To find a symbol, from the hand of art,
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter IV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
How shall I take up this vain parable
And ravel out its issue? Heaven and Hell,
The principles of good and evil thought,
Embodied in our lives, have blindly fought
The Complaint Of New Amsterdam
© Jacob Steendam
I'm a grandchild of the Gods
Who on th' Amstel have abodes;
Whence their orders forth are sent
Swift for aid and punishment.
The Count Of Griers
© William Cullen Bryant
At morn the Count of Greiers before his castle stands;
He sees afar the glory that lights the mountain lands;
The horned crags are shining, and in the shade between
A pleasant Alpine valley lies beautifully green.