Mom poems

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The Child's Grave

© Edmund Blunden

I came to the churchyard where pretty Joy lies
On a morning in April, a rare sunny day;
Such bloom rose around, and so many birds' cries
That I sang for delight as I followed the way.

With Deaths' Prophetic Ear

© Frank Dalby Davison

Lay my rifle here beside me, set my Bible on my breast,

For a moment let the warning bugles cease;

To Jane: The Recollection

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

I.
Now the last day of many days,
All beautiful and bright as thou,
The loveliest and the last, is dead,

Don Juan: Canto The Twelfth

© George Gordon Byron

Of all the barbarous middle ages, that

Which is most barbarous is the middle age

Half of the grove stood dead, and those that yet lived made
Little more than the dead ones made of shade.
If they led to a house, long before they had seen its fall:
But they welcomed me; I was glad without cause and delayed.

The Kalevala - Rune III

© Elias Lönnrot

WAINAMOINEN AND YOUKAHAINEN.

To a Sea-Gull

© Gerald Griffin

White bird of the tempest! O beautiful thing,

With the bosom of snow, and the motionless wing,

Sonnet V. To The South Downs

© Charlotte Turner Smith

AH! hills beloved!--where once, a happy child,
Your beechen shades, 'your turf, your flowers among,'
I wove your blue-bells into garlands wild,
And woke your echoes with my artless song.

Brightens Sister-In-Law [or The Carrier's Story]

© Henry Lawson

AT A POINT where the old road crosses

The river, and turns to the right,

The Market-Wife's Song

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

The butter an' the cheese weel stowit they be,
I sit on the hen-coop the eggs on my knee,
The lang kail jigs as we jog owre the rigs,
The gray mare's tail it wags wi' the kail,
The warm simmer sky is blue aboon a',
An' whiddie, whuddie, whaddie, gang the auld wheels twa.

Aager And Eliza (From The Old Danish)

© George Borrow

Have ye heard of bold Sir Aager,
How he rode to yonder isle;
There he saw the sweet Eliza,
Who upon him deignd to smile.

The Sleep-Walkers

© Khalil Gibran

And the mother spoke, and she said: "At last, at last, my enemy!
You by whom my youth was destroyed--who have built up your life
upon the ruins of mine! Would I could kill you!"

Krishna Crawling

© Sant Surdas

Chuckling, Kanha came crawling,

Trying to catch His reflection

Cry Of The Children

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,

Ere the sorrow comes with years?

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto II.

1
Tambourgi! Tambourgi! thy 'larum afar
Gives hope to the valiant, and promise of war:
All the sons of the mountains arise at the note,
Chimariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote!

Sonnet. 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 ever -- not an atom less
Than the proud laurel shall content my bier.

Time is a Fading-flowre, that's found

Five Termes, there be, which five I doe apply
To all, that was, and is, and shall be done.
The first, and last, is that ETERNITIE,

The Task : Complete

In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.