Babyhood poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best babyhood poems ever written. Read all poems about babyhood.
YOU can keep your antique silver and your statuettes of bronze,
Your curios and tapestries so fine,
But of all your treasures rare there is nothing to compare
With this patched up, wornout football pal o’ mine.
They were coming across the prairie, they were
galloping hard and fast;
For the eyes of those desperate riders had sighted
their man at last--
I SAW where in the shroud did lurk
A curious frame of Nature's work;
A floweret crush'd in the bud,
A nameless piece of Babyhood,
The shepherd's brow, fronting forked lightning, owns
The horror and the havoc and the glory
Of it. Angels fall, they are towers, from heaven—a story
Of just, majestical, and giant groans.
I am thirty this November.
You are still small, in your fourth year.
We stand watching the yellow leaves go queer,
Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing
A baby shines as bright
If winter or if May be
On eyes that keep in sight
O the years I lost before I knew you,
O, the hills I climbed and came not to you,
'Fairy!' the Spirit said,
And on the Queen of Spells
Fixed her ethereal eyes,
'Twas at that hour of beauty when the setting sun
squandereth his cloudy bed with rosy hues, to flood
his lov'd works as in turn he biddeth them Good-night;
and all the towers and temples and mansions of men
I STOOD in the ghastly gleaming night by the swollen, sullen flow
Babyhood is a spring playing,
Follow its source in the sand,
And its vibrations, flowing, growing,
Childhood can revitalize the barren land.
How tired I am! I sink down all alone
Here by the wayside of the Present. Lo,
Even as a child I hide my face and moan--
Heigh-ho! Babyhood! Tell me where you linger:
Let's toddle home again, for we have gone astray;
OH, listen to the tale of MISTER WILLIAM, if you please,
Whom naughty, naughty judges sent away beyond the seas.
He forged a party's will, which caused anxiety and strife,
Resulting in his getting penal servitude for life.
When old Jack died, we staid from school (they said,
At home, we needn't go that day), and none
Primroses, why do you pass away?
Nay, rather, why should we longer stay?
Look at me with thy large brown eyes,
Philip, my king!
Round whom the enshadowing purple lies
A quite drizzle morning,
Chants can be heard from the village temple.
Doesn't feel like getting up
as the cold nature embraces me.
Livingin their worldly
carnality, they were
producing dead works
of the flesh, which
The unsparing world i was emerged crying
not aware where my fate would take me into..
Babyhood pass with toys and plays
Youth with sex and enjoyment
Old age among aims and ailments
May liberation comes after death
New Era is Yet to Come
No way to come out of it,
The earth is struck by germs,
In those earliest happy days,
when life at its freshest,
a spirited lad I really was; so innocent, so angelic maybe,
always in my father's loving arms cradled,
A moony beam appears in an old stream;
A maiden swan dances into the waters sweet tune.
And an eagle sailed to lonely lands,
Your sort by many looked on as not good enough
But you does hang in there when the going is tough
Like all born of poor parents of the lesser gods
From babyhood you have been battling the odds
Love sets Time off, anew. And through
Its flawless, naive vision
Lover's patent, and sole preserve of
Sparks which day's inception
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