Mom poems
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Civilization
© Arthur Henry Adams
One moment mankind rides the crested wave,
A moment glorious, beyond recall;
On The Plaza
© Bliss William Carman
One August day I sat beside
A café window open wide
To let the shower-fresh ened air
Blow in across the Plaza, where
The Tyrant
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
ONE comes with foot insistent to my door,
Calling my name;
Nor voice nor footstep have I heard before,
Yet clear the calling sounds and o'er and o'er--
It seems the sunlight burns along the floor
With paler flame!
Para El Zenzontle Impavido
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Mas ya el sueño me vence… El zenzontle prolonga
su confesión melódica frente a las potestades
enemigas, y corto aqui mi panegírico
para el zenzontle impávido, virgen y confesor.
The Bagman's Dog: Mr. Peters's Story
© Richard Harris Barham
It was a litter, a litter of five,
Four are drown'd and one left alive,
He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.
Madeleine Vercheres
© William Henry Drummond
I've told you many a tale, my child, of the
old heroic days
The Reprieve
© Caroline Norton
"Oh! hear me, thou, who in the sunshine's glare
So calmly waitest till the warning bell
Shall of the closing hour of his despair
In gloomy notes of muffled triumph tell.
A Song Of Keats
© Roderic Quinn
'TIS a tarnished book and old,
Edges frayed and covers green!
But, between the covers, gold
Gold and jewels in between.
The Angel And The Child. (From Jean Reboul, The Baker Of Nismes)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
An angel with a radiant face,
Above a cradle bent to look,
Seemed his own image there to trace,
As in the waters of a brook.
Hermann And Dorothea - VII. Erato
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Joyfully heard the youth the willing maiden's decision,
Doubting whether he now had not better tell her the whole truth;
But it appear'd to him best to let her remain in her error,
First to take her home, and then for her love to entreat her.
Ah! but now he espied a golden ring on her finger,
And so let her speak, while he attentively listen'd:--
Trilogy Of Passion 02 Elegy
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHAT hope of once more meeting is there now
In the still-closed blossoms of this day?
Both heaven and hell thrown open seest thou;
What wav'ring thoughts within the bosom play
No longer doubt! Descending from the sky,
She lifts thee in her arms to realms on high.
In Utroque Fidelis
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
ALONG the woods the whispering night-airs swoon,
A single bird-note dies adown the trees,
Clear, pallid, mournful, droops the summer moon,
Dipped in the foam of cloudland's phantom seas;--
Soundless they heave above
The dim, ancestral home that holds my love.
Irelands Vow
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Come! Liberty, come! we are ripe for thy coming-
Come freshen the hearts where thy rival has trod-
Come, richest and rarest!-come, purest and fairest!-
Come, daughter of Science!-come, gift of the God!
Coombe-Ellen
© William Lisle Bowles
Call the strange spirit that abides unseen
In wilds, and wastes, and shaggy solitudes,
Louis XVII (King Louis XVII)
© Victor Marie Hugo
On entendit des voix qui disaient dans la nue :
" Jeune ange, Dieu sourit à ta gloire ingénue;
Viens, rentre dans ses bras pour ne plus en sortir;
Et vous, qui du Très-Haut racontez les louanges,
Séraphins, prophètes, archanges,
Courbez-vous, c'est un Roi; chantez, c'est un Martyr! "
The Cane-Bottom'd Chair
© William Makepeace Thackeray
In tattered old slippers that toast at the bars,
And a ragged old jacket perfumed with cigars,
Away from the world, and its toils and its cares,
I've a snug little kingdom up four pair of stairs.
I am a sculptor, a molder of form
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
I am a sculptor, a molder of form.
In every moment I shape an idol.
