Poem Lake | Page 3 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Child’s Evening Hymn Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh, Shadows of the evening Steal across the sky. Now the darkness gathers, Stars begin to peep, Birds and beasts and flowers Soon will be asleep. Jesu, give the weary ... Poet: Sabine Baring-Gould	A Little Child’s Hymn For Night and Morning THOU that once, on mother’s knee, Wast a little one like me, When I wake or go to bed Lay thy hands about my head: Let me feel thee very near, Jesus Christ, our Saviour dear. Be beside me in the light, Close... Poet: Francis Turner Palgrave	My Wife and Child The TATTOO 1 beats,—the lights are gone, The camp around in slumber lies, The night with solemn pace moves on, The shadows thicken o’er the skies; But sleep my weary eyes hath flown, And sad, uneasy thoughts arise. I think of thee, O... Poet: Henry R. Jackson	My Child I Cannot make him dead! His fair sunshiny head Is ever bounding round my study chair; Yet when my eyes, now dim With tears, I turn to him, The vision vanishes,—he is not there! I walk my parlor floor, And, through... Poet: John Pierpont
The Fairy Child The Summer sun was sinking With a mild light, calm and mellow; It shone on my little boy’s bonnie cheeks, And his loose locks of yellow. The robin was singing sweetly, And his song was sad and tender; And my little boy’s eyes, while he... Poet: John Anster	Bliss is the plaything of the child — Bliss is the plaything of the child — The secret of the man The sacred stealth of Boy and Girl Rebuke it if we can Poet:	Child's Prayer at entering Church LORD, lead my heart to learn; Prepare my ears to hear; And let me useful knowledge seek, In thy most holy fear. If unforgiven sin Within my bosom lies, Or evil... Poet:	Sleeping Child (Lydia Sigourney) SLEEP, dearest, long and sweet, With smile upon thy brow, Thy restless, tottering feet, Are surely weary now, Trotting about all day Upon the nursery-floor, Or happier still to play... Poet:
The Child's faith is new — The Child's faith is new — Whole — like His Principle — Wide — like the Sunrise On fresh Eyes — Never had a Doubt — Laughs — at a Scruple — Believes all sham But Paradise — ... Poet:	To a Child (Botta) I love to look on that eye of blue, For tears have not yet worn a channel through; And the few bright summers since thy birth, Have left thee a stranger still on earth. A... Poet: