Mom poems
/ page 30 of 212 /
On A Midge
© George MacDonald
Whence do ye come, ye creatures? Each of you
Is perfect as an angel! wings and eyes
Since Cleopatra Died
© Thomas Wentworth Higginson
SINCE Cleopatra died! Long years are past,
In Antonys fancy, since the deed was done.
Song. "The moment must come, when the hands that unite"
© Frances Anne Kemble
The moment must come, when the hands that unite
In the firm clasp of friendship, will sever;
Epilogue To Lessing's Laocooen
© Matthew Arnold
One morn as through Hyde Park we walk'd,
My friend and I, by chance we talk'd
The Sparrow
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
A LITTLE bird, with plumage brown,
Beside my window flutters down,
Sir Macklin
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Of all the youths I ever saw
None were so wicked, vain, or silly,
So lost to shame and Sabbath law,
As worldly TOM, and BOB, and BILLY.
To A Bigot
© George Essex Evans
My soul went out amid the ways of men,
By land and sea, and to the stars oerhead.
I deemed it lost when it came back again.
Is there a God? I said.
A Fable For Critics
© James Russell Lowell
'Why, nothing of consequence, save this attack
On my friend there, behind, by some pitiful hack,
Who thinks every national author a poor one,
That isn't a copy of something that's foreign,
And assaults the American Dick--'
To The Right Honourable The Lady Sarah Cowper.
© Mary Barber
Let me the Honour soon obtain,
For which I long have hop'd in vain;
Since I, alas! am now confin'd,
Your Visit would be doubly kind.
The Bell-Founder Part II - Triumph And Reward
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
In the furnace the dry branches crackle, the crucible shines as with
gold,
As they carry the hot flaming metal in haste from the fire to the mould;
Loud roars the bellows, and louder the flames as they shrieking escape,
The Merchant Of Venice: A Legend Of Italy
© Richard Harris Barham
With a pack,
Like a sack
Of old clothes at his back,
And three hats on his head, Shylock came in a crack,
Saying, 'Rest you fair, Signior Antonio!- vat, pray,
Might your vorship be pleashed for to vant in ma vay!'
Metempsychosis
© Kenneth Slessor
SUDDENLY to become John Benbow, walking down William Street
With a tin trunk and a five-pound note, looking for a place to eat,
And a peajacket the colour of a shark's behind
That a Jew might buy in the morning. . . .
From The Portuguese, 'Tu Mi Chamas'
© George Gordon Byron
In moments to delight devoted,
'My life!' with tenderest tone you cry;
Dear words! on which my heart had doted,
If youth could neither fade nor die.
The Conversion Of St. Paul
© John Keble
The mid-day sun, with fiercest glare,
Broods o'er the hazy twinkling air:
Along the level sand
The palm-tree's shade unwavering lies,
Just as thy towers, Damascus, rise
To greet you wearied band.
Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo
© Fayyaz Hashmi
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Hai mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
The Princes' Quest - Part the Ninth
© William Watson
And passing through the city he went out
Into the fat fields lying thereabout,
Au Lecteur (To The Reader)
© Charles Baudelaire
La sottise, l'erreur, le péché, la lésine,
Occupent nos esprits et travaillent nos corps,
Et nous alimentons nos aimables remords,
Comme les mendiants nourrissent leur vermine.
The Judgment Of Paris
© James Beattie
Far in the depth of Ida's inmost grove,
A scene for love and solitude design'd;
Where flowery woodbines wild, by Nature wove,
Form'd the lone bower, the royal swain reclined.
