Mom poems

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The Burning Of The Leaves

© Robert Laurence Binyon

The last hollyhock's fallen tower is dust;
All the spices of June are a bitter reek,
All the extravagant riches spent and mean.
All burns! The reddest rose is a ghost;
Sparks whirl up, to expire in the mist: the wild
Fingers of fire are making corruption clean.

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"The Undying One" - Canto III

© Caroline Norton

"I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!

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Before Sleep

© Archibald Lampman

Now the creeping nets of sleep
Stretch about and gather nigh,
And the midnight dim and deep
Like a spirit passes by,
Trailing from her crystal dress
Dreams and silent frostiness.

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Vaudracour And Julia

© William Wordsworth

O HAPPY time of youthful lovers (thus
My story may begin) O balmy time,
In which a love-knot on a lady's brow
Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven!

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El Poeta Leva El Ancla (Weighing The Anchor)

© Delmira Agustini

El ancla de oro canta…la vela azul asciende
Como el ala de un sueño abierta al nuevo día.
  Partamos, musa mía!
Ante lo prora alegre un bello mar se extiende.

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A Baby’s Love

© Edgar Albert Guest

A BABY is the best to love,

She always smiles when you draw near,

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Paracelsus: Part II: Paracelsus Attains

© Robert Browning


Ay, my brave chronicler, and this same hour
As well as any: now, let my time be!

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The Last Survivor

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

YES! the vacant chairs tell sadly we are going, going fast,
And the thought comes strangely o'er me, who will live to be the last?
When the twentieth century's sunbeams climb the far-off eastern hill,
With his ninety winters burdened, will he greet the morning still?

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Addressed To Miss Macartney, Afterwards Mrs. Greville, On Reading The Prayer For Indifference

© William Cowper

And dwells there in a female heart,
By bounteous heaven design'd
The choicest raptures to impact,
To feel the most refined;

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Peruvian Tales: Alzira, Tale II

© Helen Maria Williams

PIZARRO lands with the Forces-His meeting with ATALIBA -Its un-
happy consequences-ZORAI dies-ATALIBA imprisoned, and strangled
-Despair of ALZIRA .

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An Epistle To William Hogarth

© Charles Churchill

Amongst the sons of men how few are known

Who dare be just to merit not their own!

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At the Long Sault: May, 1660

© Archibald Lampman

  All night by the foot of the mountain
    The little town lieth at rest,
  The sentries are peacefully pacing;
    And neither from East nor from West

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Pharsalia - Book V: The Oracle. The Mutiny. The Storm

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

  While soldier thus and chief,
In doubtful sort, against their hidden fate
Devised their counsel, Appius alone
Feared for the chances of the war, and sought
Through Phoebus' ancient oracle to break
The silence of the gods and know the end.

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Composed Just After Midnight On The 31st Of December, 1878

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

A MOMENT since his breath dissolved in air!
And now divorced from life's last hectic glow,
He joins the old ghostly years of long ago,
In some cloud-folded realm of vague despair;

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The Model

© Harriet Monroe

Have you forgotten—you, the chief,
The art-director, president,
What not, of the establishment—
Forgot how for a moment brief
The whole show, all our strife and stir,
Went out—for her?

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On Burning Some Old Letters

© James Russell Lowell

Rarest woods were coarse and rough,
Sweetest spice not sweet enough,
Too impure all earthly fire
For this sacred funeral-pyre;
These rich relics must suffice
For their own dear sacrifice.

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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude III.

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Thus ran the Student's pleasant rhyme

Of Eginhard and love and youth;

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Economy, A Rhapsody, Addressed to Young Poets

© William Shenstone

Insanis; omnes gelidis quaecunqne lacernis
Sunt tibi, Nasones Virgiliosque vides. ~Mart.
Imitation.
--Thou know'st not what thou say'st;
In garments that scarce fence them from the cold
Our Ovids and our Virgils you behold.

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Variations At Home And Abroad

© Kenneth Koch

It takes a lot of a person's life

To be French, or English, or American