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You are now in the place where we share poems of well-known poets, often from the list “Best Poems” and “Best Poets”. Due to copyright we only present the poems of those poets who passed away some time ago and therefore, you will not find poems of contemporary poets here. We invite you to familiarise yourself with the poems about Teens available here and we hope you will enjoy reading. The poems about Teens found here you can easily add to the free ecards from our site, and then send ecards to friends. Best Teens poems for you.
Little Girls Must Not Fret
What is it that makes little Emily cry?
Come then, let mamma wipe the tear from her eye:
There -- lay down your head on my bosom -- that's right,
And now tell mamma what's the matter to-night.
What! Emmy is sleepy, and tired with play?
Come, Betty, make haste then, and fetch her away;
But do not be fretful, my darling; you know
Mamma cannot love little girls that are so.
She shall soon go to bed and forget it all thereÂ
Ah! here's her sweet smile come again, I declare:
That's right, for I thought you quite naughty before.
Good night, my dear child, but don't fret any more.
Poems by Jane Taylor
Lord Ullin's Daughter
A chieftain, to the Highlands bound,
Cries, ``Boatman, do not tarry!
And I'll give thee a silver pound
To row us o'er the ferry!''--
``Now, who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,
This dark and stormy weather?''
``O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,
And this, Lord Ullin's daughter.--
``And fast before her father's men
Three days we've fled together,
For should he find us in the glen,
My blood would stain the heather....
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Poems by Thomas Campbell
My Boy Jack
1914-18
Have you news of my boy Jack?"
Not this tide.
"When d'you think that he'll come back?"
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
"Has any one else had word of him?: "
Not this tide.
For what is sunk will hardly swim,
Not with this wind blowing, and this tide.
"Oh, dear, what comfort can I find?"
None this tide,
Nor any tide,
Except he did not shame his kind--
Not even with that wind blowing, and that tide....
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Poems by Rudyard Kipling
My Girl she’s Airy: A Fragment
My girl sheÂ’s airy, sheÂ’s buxom and gay;
Her breath is as sweet as the blossoms in May;
A touch of her lips it ravishes quite:
SheÂ’s always good naturÂ’d, good humourÂ’d, and free;
She dances, she glances, she smiles upon me;
I never am happy when out of her sight.
Poems by Robert Burns
Not A Child
I.
'Not a child: I call myself a boy,'
Says my king, with accent stern yet mild,
Now nine years have brought him change of joy;
'Not a child.'
How could reason be so far beguiled,
Err so far from sense's safe employ,
Stray so wide of truth, or run so wild?
Seeing his face bent over book or toy,
Child I called him, smiling: but he smiled
Back, as one too high for vain annoy -
Not a child....
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Poems by Algernon Charles Swinburne
O Tan-faced Prairie Boy
O tan-faced prairie-boy!
Before you came to camp, came many a welcome gift;
Praises and presents came, and nourishing food—till at last, among the recruits,
You came, taciturn, with nothing to give—we but look’d on each other,
When lo! more than all the gifts of the world, you gave me. 5
Poems by Walt Whitman
On a Dead Child
Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee,
With promise of strength and manhood full and fair!
Though cold and stark and bare,
The bloom and the charm of life doth awhile remain on thee.
Thy mother's treasure wert thou;—alas! no longer
To visit her heart with wondrous joy; to be
Thy father's pride:—ah, he
Must gather his faith together, and his strength make stronger.
To me, as I move thee now in the last duty,
Dost thou with a turn or gesture anon respond;
Startling my fancy fond
With a chance attitude of the head, a freak of beauty....
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Poems by Robert Seymour Bridges
Our Guardian Angels and Their Children
Where a river roars in rapids
And doves in maples fret,
Where peace has decked the pastures
Our guardian angels met.
Long they had sought each other
In God's mysterious name,
Had climbed the solemn chaos tides
Alone, with hope aflame:
Amid the demon deeps had wound
By many a fearful way.
As they beheld each other
Their shout made glad the day....
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Poems by Vachel Lindsay
Our Hired Girl
Our hired girl, she's 'Lizabuth Ann;
An' she can cook best things to eat!
She ist puts dough in our pie-pan,
An' pours in somepin' 'at's good an' sweet;
An' nen she salts it all on top
With cinnamon; an' nen she'll stop
An' stoop an' slide it, ist as slow,
In th' old cook-stove, so's 'twon't slop
An' git all spilled; nen bakes it, so
It's custard-pie, first thing you know!
An' nen she'll say,
"Clear out o' my way!
They's time fer work, an' time fer play!
Take yer dough, an' run, child, run!
Er I cain't git no cookin' done!"...
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Poems by James Whitcomb Riley
Tags from Poems Teens
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