To a Beloved Child
by Patrick Pearse
Laughing mouth, what tortures me is
That thou shalt be weeping;
Lovely face, it is my pity
That thy brightness shall grow grey.
Noble head, thou art proud,
But thou shalt bow with sorrow;
And it is a pitiful thing I forbode for thee
Whenever I kiss thee.
End of the poem
15 random poems
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- The Paper Windmill poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Upas Tree poem – Alexander Pushkin
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Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
