Short Birthday Poems

Another Year
Another birthday, another year
May you have problems that disappear
May you have health
And a bit of wealth
May you share
With those who care
May the coming year
Be one of good cheer.
By: Theodore W. Higginsworth

Thinking Of You
Thinking of you today with love
Your a special person who gives us much pleasure
We thank God above
As He sent us a special treasure.

May this year bring you
Success and happiness in all you do
A very Happy Birthday
Is our wish for you!
By: Theodore W. Higginsworth

This day, whate'er the Fates decree
This day, whate'er the Fates decree,
Shall still be kept with joy by me:
This day then let us not be told,
That you are sick, and I grown old;
Nor think on our approaching ills,
And talk of spectacles and pills.
To-morrow will be time enough
To hear such mortifying stuff.
et, since from reason may be brought
A better and more pleasing thought,
Which can, in spite of all decays,
Support a few remaining days:
From not the gravest of divines
Accept for once some serious lines.
By: Jonathan Swift

The Passing Years
Age is a quality of mind:
If you have left your dreams behind,
If hope is lost,
If you no longer look ahead,
If your ambition's fires are dead,
Then you are old.

But if from life you take the best
And if in life you keep the jest,
If love you hold,
No matter how the years go by,
No matter how the birthdays fly,
You are not old.
By: Edward Tuck

It Feels So Good With You
It feels so magical in your company
We talk about so many things
We talk about our hopes
And things of the blings
We talk about our life to come
And other things per say
You are the reason for my life
Can't even stay a day without you
Coz I simply love you
For best sis forever
Happy birthday to you God bless you!
By: P. Knudsen

The Happiest Age
What age is happiest?
Had you asked me,
I would have made this plea:
the Now is best.

What joy to live with zest each newborn day;
and from the Moment wrest what Life will give away.
The Past is but a guest who came and went,
and left this one behest: to be content.

Think how To-day is blest!
We've eyes to see Nature in Beauty drest for you, for me.
What matter that the crest of Youth is past.
Youth lives within the breast with joys that last.
The will to do our best, and hands for giving.
Oh! Now's the happiest, best time for living!

What age is happiest?
Oh! hear my vow, for I have put the test -
the happiest's Now.
Sweet sighs and kindly jest for warmth and cheer;
and Love's most high bequest to crown the year.
By: Wilhelmina Stitch

I, my dear, was born to-day-
I, my dear, was born to-day-
So all my jolly comrades say:
They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth,
And ask to celebrate my birth:
Little, alas! my comrades know
That I was born to pain and woe;
To thy denial, to thy scorn,
Better I had ne'er been born:
I wish to die, even whilst I say-
'I, my dear, was born to-day.'
I, my dear, was born to-day:
Shall I salute the rising ray,
Well-spring of all my joy and woe?
Clotilda, thou alone dost know.
Shall the wreath surround my hair?
Or shall the music please my ear?
Shall I my comrades' mirth receive,
And bless my birth, and wish to live?
Then let me see great Venus chase
Imperious anger from thy face;
Then let me hear thee smiling say-
'Thou, my dear, wert born to-day.'
By: Matthew Prior

A BIRTHDAY
MY heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a daïs of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.
By Christina Rossetti

To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday
Oh be thou blest with all that Heav'n can send,
Long Health, long Youth, long Pleasure, and a Friend:
Not with those Toys the female world admire,
Riches that vex, and Vanities that tire.
With added years if Life bring nothing new,
But, like a Sieve, let ev'ry blessing thro',
Some joy still lost, as each vain year runs o'er,
And all we gain, some sad Reflection more;
Is that a Birth-Day? 'tis alas! too clear,
'Tis but the funeral of the former year.
Let Joy or Ease, let Affluence or Content,
And the gay Conscience of a life well spent,
Calm ev'ry thought, inspirit ev'ry grace.
Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face.
Let day improve on day, and year on year,
Without a Pain, a Trouble, or a Fear;
Till Death unfelt that tender frame destroy,
In some soft Dream, or Extasy of joy,
Peaceful sleep out the Sabbath of the Tomb,
And wake to Raptures in a Life to come.
by Alexander Pope