有關(guān)父親節(jié)英文詩(shī)歌
what makes a dad?
god took the strength of a mountain,
the majesty of a tree,
the warmth of a summer sun,
the calm of a quiet sea,
the generous soul of nature,
the comforting arm of night,
the wisdom of the ages,
the power of the eagles in flight,
the joy of a morning in spring,
the faith of a mustard seed,
the patience of eternity,
the depth of a family need,
then god combined these qualities,
and there was nothing more to add,
he knew his masterpiece was complete,
and he called it – dad.
author unknown
be kind to thy father
"be kind to thy father, for when thou wert young,
who loved thee so fondly as he?
he caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue,
and joined in thy innocent glee."
margaret courtney
what is a dad?
a dad is a person who is loving and kind,
and often he knows what you have on your mind.
he's someone who listens, suggests, and defends -
a dad can be one of your very best friends!
he's proud of your triumphs, but when things go wrong,
a dad can be patient and helpful and strong
in all that you do, a dad's love plays a part -
there's always a place for him deep in your heart.
and each year that passes, you're even more glad,
more grateful and proud just to call him your dad!
author unknown
dad
he doesn't stand out in a crowd, just an average, regular guy,
but to me he's a king and stands near ten feet high.
he loves and understands me, whether i am good or bad.
they'll make the man that i will be, the hours i spend with dad.
author unknown
my dad
i love someone dearly.
he's kind as can be;
he makes me so happy;
he's my dad, you see.
he takes me out fishing;
we play ball and swim;
he knows about everything;
i'm so proud of him.
and as i get bigger,
i just want to grow
to be like my daddy
'cause i love him so.
hazel fletcher young
only a dad
only a dad with a tired face,
coming home from the daily race,
bringing little of gold or fame
to show how well he has played the game;
but glad in his heart that his own rejoice
to see him come and to hear his voice.
only a dad with a brood of four,
one of ten million men or more
plodding along in the daily strife,
bearing the whips and the scorns of life,
with never a whimper of pain or hate,
for the sake of those who at home await.
only a dad, neither rich nor proud,
merely one of the surging crowd,
toiling, striving from day to day,
facing whatever may come his way,
silent whenever the harsh condemn,
and bearing it all for the love of them.
only a dad but he gives his all,
to smooth the way for his children small,
doing with courage stern and grim
the deeds that his father did for him.
this is the line that for him i pen: