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Best Famous Louisa May Alcott Poems


Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Louisa May Alcott poems. This is a select list of the best famous Louisa May Alcott poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Louisa May Alcott poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of louisa may alcott poems.

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by Louisa May Alcott |

Fairy Song

 The moonlight fades from flower and rose 
And the stars dim one by one; 
The tale is told, the song is sung, 
And the Fairy feast is done. 
The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers, 
And sings to them, soft and low. 
The early birds erelong will wake: 
'T is time for the Elves to go. 

O'er the sleeping earth we silently pass, 
Unseen by mortal eye, 
And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float 
Through the quiet moonlit sky;-- 
For the stars' soft eyes alone may see, 
And the flowers alone may know, 
The feasts we hold, the tales we tell; 
So't is time for the Elves to go. 

From bird, and blossom, and bee, 
We learn the lessons they teach; 
And seek, by kindly deeds, to win 
A loving friend in each. 
And though unseen on earth we dwell, 
Sweet voices whisper low, 
And gentle hearts most joyously greet 
The Elves where'er they go. 

When next we meet in the Fairy dell, 
May the silver moon's soft light 
Shine then on faces gay as now, 
And Elfin hearts as light. 
Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky 
With sunlight soon shall glow. 
The morning star shall light us home: 
Farewell! for the Elves must go.


by Louisa May Alcott |

From The Short Story A Christmas Dream And How It Came True

 From our happy home 
Through the world we roam 
One week in all the year, 
Making winter spring 
With the joy we bring 
For Christmas-tide is here. 

Now the eastern star 
Shines from afar 
To light the poorest home; 
Hearts warmer grow, 
Gifts freely flow, 
For Christmas-tide has come. 

Now gay trees rise 
Before young eyes, 
Abloom with tempting cheer; 
Blithe voices sing, 
And blithe bells ring, 
For Christmas-tide is here. 

Oh, happy chime, 
Oh, blessed time, 
That draws us all so near! 
"Welcome, dear day," 
All creatures say, 
For Christmas-tide is here.


by Louisa May Alcott |

From The Short Story Shadow-Children

 Little shadows, little shadows 
Dancing on the chamber wall, 
While I sit beside the hearthstone 
Where the red flames rise and fall. 
Caps and nightgowns, caps and nightgowns, 
My three antic shadows wear; 
And no sound they make in playing, 
For the six small feet are bare. 

Dancing gayly, dancing gayly, 
To and fro all together, 
Like a family of daisies 
Blown about in windy weather; 
Nimble fairies, nimble fairies, 
Playing pranks in the warm glow, 
While I sing the nursery ditties 
Childish phantoms love and know. 

Now what happens, now what happens? 
One small shadow's tumbled down: 
I can see it on the carpet 
Softly rubbing its hurt crown. 
No one whimpers, no one whimpers; 
A brave-hearted sprite is this: 
See! the others offer comfort 
In a silent, shadowy kiss. 

Hush! they're creeping; hush! they're creeping, 
Up about my rocking-chair: 
I can feel their loving fingers 
Clasp my neck and touch my hair. 
Little shadows, little shadows, 
Take me captive, hold me tight, 
As they climb and cling and whisper, 
"Mother dear, good night! good night!"


by Louisa May Alcott |

From The Short Story What The Swallows Did

 Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow, 
Starting on your autumn flight, 
Pause a moment at my window, 
Twitter softly your good-night; 
For the summer days are over, 
All your duties are well done, 
And the happy homes you builded 
Have grown empty, one by one. 
Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow, 
Are you ready for your flight? 
Are all the feather cloaks completed? 
Are the little caps all right? 
Are the young wings strong and steady 
For the journey through the sky? 
Come again in early spring-time; 
And till then, good-by, good-by!


by Louisa May Alcott |

Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song I

 Awake! Awake! for the earliest gleam 
Of golden sunlight shines 
On the rippling waves, that brightly flow 
Beneath the flowering vines. 
Awake! Awake! for the low, sweet chant 
Of the wild-birds' morning hymn 
Comes floating by on the fragrant air, 
Through the forest cool and dim; 
Then spread each wing, 
And work, and sing, 
Through the long, bright sunny hours; 
O'er the pleasant earth 
We journey forth, 
For a day among the flowers. 

Awake! Awake! for the summer wind 
Hath bidden the blossoms unclose, 
Hath opened the violet's soft blue eye, 
And awakened the sleeping rose. 
And lightly they wave on their slender stems 
Fragrant, and fresh, and fair, 
Waiting for us, as we singing come 
To gather our honey-dew there. 
Then spread each wing, 
And work, and sing, 
Through the long, bright sunny hours; 
O'er the pleasant earth 
We journey forth, 
For a day among the flowers.


by Louisa May Alcott |

Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song II

 Thistledown in prison sings:

Bright shines the summer sun,
Soft is the summer air;
Gayly the wood-birds sing,
Flowers are blooming fair.
But, deep in the dark, cold rock,
Sadly I dwell,
Longing for thee, dear friend, 
Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell!

Lily-Bell replies:

Through sunlight and summer air
I have sought for thee long,
Guided by birds and flowers,
And now by thy song.

Thistledown! Thistledown!
O'er hill and dell
Hither to comfort thee
Comes Lily-Bell.


by Louisa May Alcott |

The Frost-King - Song 1

 We are sending you, dear flowers 
Forth alone to die, 
Where your gentle sisters may not weep 
O'er the cold graves where you lie; 
But you go to bring them fadeless life 
In the bright homes where they dwell, 
And you softly smile that't is so, 
As we sadly sing farewell. 
O plead with gentle words for us, 
And whisper tenderly 
Of generous love to that cold heart, 
And it will answer ye; 
And though you fade in a dreary home, 
Yet loving hearts will tell 
Of the joy and peace that you have given: 
Flowers, dear flowers, farewell!


by Louisa May Alcott |

The Frost-King - Song II

 Brighter shone the golden shadows; 
On the cool wind softly came 
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers, 
Singing little Violet's name. 
'Mong the green trees was it whispered, 
And the bright waves bore it on 
To the lonely forest flowers, 
Where the glad news had not gone. 

Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom, 
And his power to harm and blight. 
Violet conquered, and his cold heart 
Warmed with music, love, and light; 
And his fair home, once so dreary, 
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers, 
Brought a joy that never faded 
Through the long bright summer hours. 

Thus, by Violet's magic power, 
All dark shadows passed away, 
And on the home of happy flowers 
The golden light for ever lay. 
Thus the Fairy mission ended, 
And all Flower-Land was taught 
The "Power of Love," by gentle deeds 
That little Violet wrought.


by Louisa May Alcott |

The Lay of a Golden Goose

 Long ago in a poultry yard 
One dull November morn, 
Beneath a motherly soft wing 
A little goose was born. 

Who straightway peeped out of the shell 
To view the world beyond, 
Longing at once to sally forth 
And paddle in the pond. 

"Oh! be not rash," her father said, 
A mild Socratic bird; 
Her mother begged her not to stray 
With many a warning word. 

But little goosey was perverse, 
And eagerly did cry, 
"I've got a lovely pair of wings, 
Of course I ought to fly." 

In vain parental cacklings, 
In vain the cold sky's frown, 
Ambitious goosey tried to soar, 
But always tumbled down. 

The farmyard jeered at her attempts, 
The peacocks screamed, "Oh fie! 
You're only a domestic goose, 
So don't pretend to fly." 

Great cock-a-doodle from his perch 
Crowed daily loud and clear, 
"Stay in the puddle, foolish bird, 
That is your proper sphere," 

The ducks and hens said, one and all, 
In gossip by the pool, 
"Our children never play such pranks; 
My dear, that fowl's a fool." 

The owls came out and flew about, 
Hooting above the rest, 
"No useful egg was ever hatched 
From transcendental nest." 

Good little goslings at their play 
And well-conducted chicks 
Were taught to think poor goosey's flights 
Were naughty, ill-bred tricks. 

They were content to swim and scratch, 
And not at all inclined 
For any wild goose chase in search 
Of something undefined. 

Hard times she had as one may guess, 
That young aspiring bird, 
Who still from every fall arose 
Saddened but undeterred. 

She knew she was no nightingale 
Yet spite of much abuse, 
She longed to help and cheer the world, 
Although a plain gray goose 

She could not sing, she could not fly, 
Nor even walk, with grace, 
And all the farmyard had declared 
A puddle was her place. 

But something stronger than herself 
Would cry, "Go on, go on! 
Remember, though an humble fowl, 
You're cousin to a swan." 

So up and down poor goosey went, 
A busy, hopeful bird. 
Searched many wide unfruitful fields, 
And many waters stirred. 

At length she came unto a stream 
Most fertile of all Niles, 
Where tuneful birds might soar and sing 
Among the leafy isles. 

Here did she build a little nest 
Beside the waters still, 
Where the parental goose could rest 
Unvexed by any bill. 

And here she paused to smooth her plumes, 
Ruffled by many plagues; 
When suddenly arose the cry, 
"This goose lays golden eggs." 

At once the farmyard was agog; 
The ducks began to quack; 
Prim Guinea fowls relenting called, 
"Come back, come back, come back." 

Great chanticleer was pleased to give 
A patronizing crow, 
And the contemptuous biddies clucked, 
"I wish my chicks did so." 

The peacocks spread their shining tails, 
And cried in accents soft, 
"We want to know you, gifted one, 
Come up and sit aloft." 

Wise owls awoke and gravely said, 
With proudly swelling breasts, 
"Rare birds have always been evoked 
From transcendental nests!" 

News-hunting turkeys from afar 
Now ran with all thin legs 
To gobble facts and fictions of 
The goose with golden eggs. 

But best of all the little fowls 
Still playing on the shore, 
Soft downy chicks and goslings gay, 
Chirped out, "Dear Goose, lay more." 

But goosey all these weary years 
Had toiled like any ant, 
And wearied out she now replied 
"My little dears, I can't. 

"When I was starving, half this corn 
Had been of vital use, 
Now I am surfeited with food 
Like any Strasbourg goose." 

So to escape too many friends, 
Without uncivil strife, 
She ran to the Atlantic pond 
And paddled for her life. 

Soon up among the grand old Alps 
She found two blessed things, 
The health she had so nearly lost, 
And rest for weary limbs. 

But still across the briny deep 
Couched in most friendly words, 
Came prayers for letters, tales, or verse 
From literary birds. 

Whereat the renovated fowl 
With grateful thanks profuse, 
Took from her wing a quill and wrote 
This lay of a Golden Goose.


by Louisa May Alcott |

The Rock and The Bubble

 Oh! a bare, brown rock 
Stood up in the sea, 
The waves at its feet 
Dancing merrily. 

A little bubble 
Once came sailing by, 
And thus to the rock 
Did it gayly cry,-- 

"Ho! clumsy brown stone, 
Quick, make way for me: 
I'm the fairest thing 
That floats on the sea. 

"See my rainbow-robe, 
See my crown of light, 
My glittering form, 
So airy and bright. 

"O'er the waters blue, 
I'm floating away, 
To dance by the shore 
With the foam and spray. 

"Now, make way, make way; 
For the waves are strong, 
And their rippling feet 
Bear me fast along." 

But the great rock stood 
Straight up in the sea: 
It looked gravely down, 
And said pleasantly-- 

"Little friend, you must 
Go some other way; 
For I have not stirred 
this many a long day. 

"Great billows have dashed, 
And angry winds blown; 
But my sturdy form 
Is not overthrown. 

"Nothing can stir me 
In the air or sea; 
Then, how can I move, 
Little friend, for thee?" 

Then the waves all laughed 
In their voices sweet; 
And the sea-birds looked, 
From their rocky seat, 

At the bubble gay, 
Who angrily cried, 
While its round cheek glowed 
With a foolish pride,-- 

"You SHALL move for me; 
And you shall not mock 
At the words I say, 
You ugly, rough rock. 

"Be silent, wild birds! 
While stare you so? 
Stop laughing, rude waves, 
And help me to go! 

"For I am the queen 
Of the ocean here, 
And this cruel stone 
Cannot make me fear." 

Dashing fiercely up, 
With a scornful word, 
Foolish Bubble broke; 
But Rock never stirred. 

Then said the sea-birds, 
Sitting in their nests 
To the little ones 
Leaning on their breasts,-- 

"Be not like Bubble, 
Headstrong, rude, and vain, 
Seeking by violence 
Your object to gain; 

"But be like the rock, 
Steadfast, true, and strong, 
Yet cheerful and kind, 
And firm against wrong. 

"Heed, little birdlings, 
And wiser you'll be 
For the lesson learned 
To-day by the sea."