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Childhood Poems Page #11

Displaying 7,728 poems from the Childhood genre.

Busy
— Nikhil Parekh
The clouds were mystically busy; in showering tantalizing globules of rain; upon fathomless territories of agonizingly parched soil, The Sun was flami...
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Vain And Careless
— Robert Graves
Lady, lovely lady, Careless and gay! Once when a beggar called She gave her child away. The beggar took the baby, Wrapped it in a shawl, 'Bring her bac...
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Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas
— Anne Brontë
In all we do, and hear, and see, Is restless Toil and Vanity. While yet the rolling earth abides, Men come and go like Ocean tides; And ere one generat...
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The Last of The Flock
— William Wordsworth
I In distant countries have I been, And yet I have not often seen A healthy man, a man full grown, Weep in the public roads, alone. But such a one...
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In Memory of Major Robert Gregory
— William Butler Yeats
Now that we're almost settled in our house I'll name the friends that cannot sup with us Beside a fire of turf in th' ancient tower, And having talke...
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Children Of The Damned
— Kurt Philip Behm
The ethics of duplicity, the killing on trial One law for the criminal, one law for the child The electric chair savage, womb murder refined Ac...
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God'S most precious creation
— Nikhil Parekh
I didn't know who was his mother; the irrefutably sacrosanct womb which had evolved his impeccable contours, I didn't know who was his father; the rev...
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A Fairly Sad Tale
— Dorothy Parker
I think that I shall never know Why I am thus, and I am so. Around me, other girls inspire In men the rush and roar of fire, The sweet transparency of g...
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The Great Sin Of Prejudice Against Color
— Sojourner Truth
Children, who made your skin white? Was it not God? Who made mine black? Was it not the same God? Am I to blame, therefore, because my skin is bla...
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Great Are The Myths
— Walt Whitman
GREAT are the myths--I too delight in them; Great are Adam and Eve--I too look back and accept them; Great the risen and fallen nations, and t...
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A Delicious Interruption
— James Whitcomb Riley
All were quite gracious in their plaudits of Bud's Fairy; but another stir above That murmur was occasioned by a sweet Young lady-caller, from a neighbo...
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Better—than Music! For I—who heard it
— Emily Dickinson
Better—than Music! For I—who heard it— I was used—to the Birds—before— This—was different—'Twas Translation— Of all tunes I knew—and more— 'Twasn't con...
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Daft
— Ella Wheeler Wilcox
In the warm yellow smile of the morning, She stands at the lattice pane, And watches the strong young binders Stride down to the fields of grain. An...
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Tombstones in the Starlight
— Dorothy Parker
I. The Minor Poet His little trills and chirpings were his best. No music like the nightingale's was born Within his throat; but he, too, laid his brea...
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A Memory Of Youth
— William Butler Yeats
THE moments passed as at a play; I had the wisdom love brings forth; I had my share of mother-wit, And yet for all that I could say, And though I had he...
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Song of Nature
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
Mine are the night and morning, The pits of air, the gulf of space, The sportive sun, the gibbous moon, The innumerable days. I hid in the solar glory,...
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An Essay on Criticism
— Alexander Pope
Part I INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to ...
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System
— Robert Louis Stevenson
Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I've been good, I get an orange after food. The child that is not cle...
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Zone
— Guillaume Apollinaire
At last you're tired of this elderly world Shepherdess O Eiffel Tower this morning the bridges are bleating You're fed up living with antiquity Even...
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The Little Red Dog
— Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
The Glugs still live in the land of Gosh, Under the rule of the great King Splosh. And they climb the trees in the Summer and Spring, Because it is reck...
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Ruth
— William Wordsworth
When Ruth was left half desolate, Her Father took another Mate; And Ruth, not seven years old, A slighted child, at her own will Went wandering over...
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The Children's Hour
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupation, That is know as the children's hour. I...
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Spirit of Poetry, The
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is a quiet spirit in these woods, That dwells where'er the gentle south-wind blows; Where, underneath the white-thorn, in the glade, The wild flow...
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Good-Bye, Little Cabin
— Robert William Service
O dear little cabin, I've loved you so long, And now I must bid you good-bye! I've filled you with laughter, I've thrilled you with song, And sometimes ...
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Just Having Fun
— Mario William Vitale
I’m just having fun, but no doubt someone will take this serious I’m about to take you on a lyrical experience I’m having fun with words, like when a ...
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