Smile poems
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A Forest Hymn
© William Cullen Bryant
The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,
Conscription Camp
© Karl Shapiro
Your landscape sickens with a dry disease
Even in May, Virginia, and your sweet pines
Like Frenchmen runted in a hundred wars
Are of a childs height in these battlefields.
One Struggle More, And I Am Free
© George Gordon Byron
One struggle more, and I am free
From pangs that rend my heart in twain;
One last long sigh to love and thee,
Then back to busy life again.
Christmas
© Virna Sheard
With all the little children, far and near,
God wot! to-day we'll sing a song of cheer!
To rosy lips and eyes, that know not guile,
We one and all will give back smile for smile;
And for the sake of all the small and gay
We will be children also for to-day.
Constancy In Inconstancy
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
An Old Mans Confession
SHE has a large still heart--this lady of mine,
(Not mine, i'faith! nor would I that she were
She walks this world of ours like Grecian nymph,
A Child in the Garden
© Henry Van Dyke
Then just within the gate I saw a child, -
A stranger-child, yet to my heart most dear;
He held his hands to me, and softly smiled
With eyes that knew no shade of sin or fear:
"Come in," he said, "and play awhile with me;"
"I am the little child you used to be."
Looking East
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
LITTLE white clouds, why are you flying
Over the sky so blue and cold?
Fair faint hopes, why are you lying
Over my heart like a white cloud's fold?
Prothalamion
© Horace Smith
Go, like St. Simon, on your lonely tower,
Wish to make all men good, but want the power.
Freedom you'll have, but still will lack the thrall,--
The bond of sympathy, which binds us all.
Children and wives are hostages to fame,
But aids and helps in every useful aim.
The New Days
© Edgar Albert Guest
The old days, the old days, how oft the poets sing,
The days of hope at dewy morn, the days of early spring,
Curiosity
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
MAMMY'S in de kitchen, an' de do' is shet;
All de pickaninnies climb an' tug an' sweat,
Spectator ab Extra
© Arthur Hugh Clough
As I sat in the Café I said to myself,
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking,
But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.
The Precocious Baby - a Very True Tale
© William Schwenck Gilbert
An elderly person - a prophet by trade -
With his quips and tips
Poem For The Dedication Of The Fountain At Stratford-On-Avon
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
PRESENTED BY GEORGE W. CHILDS, OF PHILADELPHIA
WELCOME, thrice welcome is thy silvery gleam,
Departure
© Henry Van Dyke
Oh, why are you shining so bright, big Sun,
And why is the garden so gay?
The Orange-Peel In The Gutter
© Mathilde Blind
BEHOLD, unto myself I said,
This place how dull and desolate,
Thoughts Suggested By A College Examination
© George Gordon Byron
High in the midst, surrounded by his peers,
MAGNUS his ample front sublime up rears:
Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god.
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod.
As It Looks To The Boy
© Edgar Albert Guest
His comrades have enlisted, but his mother bids him stay,
His soul is sick with coward shame, his head hangs low to-day,
His eyes no longer sparkle, and his breast is void of pride
And I think that she has lost him though she's kept him at her side.
Oh, I'm sorry for the mother, but I'm sorrier for the lad
Who must look on life forever as a hopeless dream and sad.
