Learn More

Clement Clarke Moore

(15 July 1779 – 10 July 1863 / New York City, New York)

Old Santeclaus


But where I found the children naughty,
In manners rude, in temper haughty,
Thankless to parents, liars, swearers,
Boxers, or cheats, or base tale-bearers,

I left a long, black, birchen rod,
Such as the dread command of God
Directs a Parent's hand to use
When virtue's path his sons refuse.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004
Edited: Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
2 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: children, god, son, child

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Old Santeclaus by Clement Clarke Moore )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. The Saddest Poem, Pablo Neruda
  2. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  4. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  5. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  6. If, Rudyard Kipling
  7. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  8. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  9. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  10. A Prayer To Mother Nature., Marcondes Pereira

Poem of the Day

poet James Whitcomb Riley

There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your doll, I know;
And your tea-set blue,
And your play-house, too,
Are things of the long ago;
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]