Mom poems
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The White Comrade
© Robert Haven Schauffler
Under our curtain of fire,
Over the clotted clods,
We charged, to be withered, to reel
And despairingly wheel
When the bugles bade us retire
From the terrible odds.
The Black Knight
© Madison Julius Cawein
I had not found the road too short,
As once I had in days of youth,
A Vision of St. Eligius
© George MacDonald
I see thy house, but I am blown about,
A wind-mocked kite, between the earth and sky,
All out of doors-alas! of thy doors out,
And drenched in dews no summer suns can dry.
A Christmas Hymn
© Alfred Domett
IT was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Musette
© Henri Murger
Yesterday, watching the swallows' flight
That bring the spring and the season fair,
Ash-Wednesday
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Glittring balls and thoughtless revels
Fill up now each misspent night
Witchery Knows!
© William Henry Ogilvie
Witchery knows what it means
When the oats and the barley, the wheat and the beans,
Don Juan: Canto The Ninth
© George Gordon Byron
Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton'--for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
The Sydney International Exhibition
© Henry Kendall
Now, while Orion, flaming south, doth set
A shining foot on hills of wind and wet
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And thus I first beheld her, standing calm
In the swayed crowd upon her husband's arm,
One opera night, the centre of all eyes,
So proud she seemed, so fair, so sweet, so wise.
Some one behind me whispered ``Lady L.!
His Lordship too! and thereby hangs a tale.''
White Currants
© Amy Lowell
Shall I give you white currants?
I do not know why, but I have a sudden fancy for this fruit.
I Shall Go Back
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand
The Watcher
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I think I hear the sound of horses' feet
Beating upon the graveled avenue.
Go to the window that looks on the street,
He would not let me die alone, I knew."
Back to the couch the patient watcher passed,
And said: "It is the wailing of the blast."
Written in 1834
© Samuel Rogers
Well, when her day is over, be it said
That, though a speck on the terrestrial globe,
Found with long search and in a moment lost,
She made herself a name--a name to live
A Tale Of True Love
© Alfred Austin
Not in the mist of legendary ages,
Which in sad moments men call long ago,
And people with bards, heroes, saints, and sages,
And virtues vanished, since we do not know,
But here to-day wherein we all grow old,
But only we, this Tale of True Love will be told.
Epitaph On Her Son H. P. At St. Syths Church Wher Her Body Also Lies Interred
© Katherine Philips
What on Earth deserves our trust ?
Youth and Beauty both are dust.
Long we gathering are with pain,
What one moment calls again.
Amours De Voyage, Canto II
© Arthur Hugh Clough
P.S.
Mary has seen thus far.-I am really so angry, Louisa,-
Quite out of patience, my dearest! What can the man be intending?
I am quite tired; and Mary, who might bring him to in a moment,
Lets him go on as he likes, and neither will help nor dismiss him.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter I - The Ring And The Book
© Robert Browning
DO you see this Ring?
Tis Rome-work, made to match
The Flies. An Eclogue.
© Thomas Parnell
When in the River Cows for Coolness stand,
And Sheep for Breezes seek the lofty Land,
