Mom poems
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Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth
© George Gordon Byron
I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
Imelda
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
……………….Sometimes
The young forgot the lessons they had learnt,
And lov'd when they should hate, like thee, Imelda! ~ Italy, a Poem
A Very Mournful Ballad On The Siege And Conquest Of Alhama
© George Gordon Byron
I
THE Moorish King rides up and down,
Through Granada's royal town;
From Elvira's gate to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama!
The Suicides Grave
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
This is the scene of a man's despair, and a soul's release
From the difficult traits of the flesh; so, it seeking peace,
Snow Dance For The Dead
© Lola Ridge
Dance, little children ... it is holy twilight . . .
Have you hung paper flowers about the necks of the ikons?
Dance soft . . . but very gaily ... on tip-toes like the snow.
Real Swimming
© Edgar Albert Guest
I saw him in the distance, as the train went speeding by,
A shivery little fellow standing in the sun to dry.
The Reasons
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
One with a whimsical face spoke freely;
"I?--I sought some stir,
Some urge in living,
Some sense in dying.
I sought a mountain top
With a view!"
Our Banker
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
OLD TIME, in whose bank we deposit our notes,
Is a miser who always wants guineas for groats;
He keeps all his customers still in arrears
By lending them minutes and charging them years.
Consalvo
© Giacomo Leopardi
Approaching now the end of his abode
On earth, Consalvo lay; complaining once,
Christmas Eve
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Friend, old friend in the Manse by the fireside sitting,
Hour by hour while the grey ash drips from the log;
You with a book on your knee, your wife with her knitting,
Silent both, and between you, silent, the dog.
Lover's Gifts LVI: The Evening Was Lonely
© Rabindranath Tagore
The evening was lonely for me, and I was reading a book till my
heart became dry, and it seemed to me that beauty was a thing
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 3.
© William Cowper
Eve. Adam, my best beloved!
My guardian and my guide!
Thou source of all my comfort, all my joy!
Thee, thee alone I wish,
And in these pleasing shades
Thee only have I sought.
The Loiterer
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
When Youth, led on by love and folly, strays,
Kissing sweet eyes beyond the allotted hour
The Season
© Alfred Austin
So sings the river through the summer days,
And I, submissive, follow what I praise.
What if my boyish blood would rather stay
Where lawns invite, where bonnibels delay,
Though but a youth and not averse from these,
To conflict called, I abdicate my ease,
Gisli: The Chieftain
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
To the Goddess Lada prayed
Gisli, holding high his spear
Bound with buds of spring, and laughed
All his heart to Lada's ear.
Verses Printed By Himself On A Flood At Olney
© William Cowper
To watch the storms, and hear the sky
Give all our almanacks the lie;
Our Indian Summer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
You 'll believe me, dear boys, 't is a pleasure to rise,
With a welcome like this in your darling old eyes;
To meet the same smiles and to hear the same tone
Which have greeted me oft in the years that have flown.
The Morning Of The Day Appointed For A General Thanksgiving. January 18, 1816
© William Wordsworth
I
HAIL, orient Conqueror of gloomy Night!
Thou that canst shed the bliss of gratitude
On hearts howe'er insensible or rude;
Elegy With A Bridle In Its Hand
© Larry Levis
One was a bay cowhorse from Piedra & the other was a washed out palomino
And both stood at the rail of the corral & both went on aging
In each effortless tail swish, the flies rising, then congregating again
Amours De Voyage, Canto V
© Arthur Hugh Clough
Pisa, they say they think, and so I follow to Pisa,
Hither and thither inquiring. I weary of making inquiries.
I am ashamed, I declare, of asking people about it.-
Who are your friends? You said you had friends who would certainly know them.
