Children poems
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Epitaph On Mr. Chester Of Chicheley
© William Cowper
Tears flow, and cease not, where the good man lies,
Till all who know him follow to the skies.
Tears therefore fall where Chester's ashes sleep;
Him wife, friends, brothers, children, servants, weep;
And justly -- few shall ever him transcend
As husband, parent, brother, master, friend.
Mons Angelorum
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Joshua O father of my soul, I cannot tell.
The burden of the Lord is heavy on me,
And I am broken beneath it.
The Way Of The Bush
© Alice Guerin Crist
A night of storm and wind and rain,
Tall trees bowing beneath the blast
That shakes and rattles the window-pane,
And a thunderous roar as the creek goes past.
Of The Boy and The Butterfly
© John Bunyan
Behold how eager this our little boy
Is for this Butterfly, as if all joy,
Here And There
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
HERE the warm sunshine fills
Like wine of gods the deepening, cup-shaped dells,
Embossed with marvellous flowers; the happy rills
Roam through the autumnal fields whose rich increase
Our Country
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WE give thy natal day to hope,
O Country of our love and prayer!
Thy way is down no fatal slope,
But up to freer sun and air.
A Childs Smile
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
A CHILD'S smile--nothing more;
Quiet, and soft, and grave, and seldom seen;
Like summer lightning o'er,
Leaving the little face again serene.
England To Ireland
© William Watson
Spouse whom my sword in the olden time won me,
Winning me hatred more sharp than a sword--
Pharsalia - Book II: The Flight Of Pompeius
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
This was made plain the anger of the gods;
The universe gave signs Nature reversed
In monstrous tumult fraught with prodigies
Her laws, and prescient spake the coming guilt.
The Greatest Love
© Anna Swirszczynska
She walks arm-in-arm with her dear one,
her hair streams in the wind.
Her dear one says:
"You have hair like pearls."
A Little Girl Lost
© William Blake
Children of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,
Know that in a former time
Love, sweet love, was thought a crime.
Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. - Canto I.
© Matthew Prior
Without these aids, to be more serious,
Her power they hold had been precarious;
The eyes might have conspired her ruin,
And she not known what they were doing.
Foolish it had been and unkind
That they should see and she be blind.
The Street-Children's Dance
© Mathilde Blind
NOW the earth in fields and hills
Stirs with pulses of the Spring,
Next-embowering hedges ring
With interminable trills;
Sunlight runs a race with rain,
All the world grows young again.
Look Seaward, Sentinel!
© Alfred Austin
I
Look seaward, Sentinel, and tell the land
What you behold.
The Epic Of Sadness
© Nizar Qabbani
Your love has taught me, my lady, the worst habits
it has taught me to read my coffee cups
thousands of times a night
to experiment with alchemy,
to visit fortune tellers
To His Deare Brother Colonel F. L. Immoderately Mourning My
© Richard Lovelace
I.
If teares could wash the ill away,
A pearle for each wet bead I'd pay;
But as dew'd corne the fuller growes,
So water'd eyes but swell our woes.
The Mystics Christmas
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"All hail!" the bells of Christmas rang,
"All hail!" the monks at Christmas sang,
The merry monks who kept with cheer
The gladdest day of all their year.
