Poems begining by C
/ page 14 of 99 /
Continued - III
© George Meredith
'Tis true the wisdom that my mind exacts
Through contemplation from a heart unbent
Change
© Muriel Stuart
CHANGE shall accustom me in after years
To kingdom's builded on life's overthrow;
Confederate Memorial Day
© Anonymous
The marching armies of the past
Along our Southern plains,
Are sleeping now in quiet rest
Beneath the Southern rains.
Ceux qui vivent, ce sont ceux qui luttent
© Victor Marie Hugo
Ceux qui vivent, ce sont ceux qui luttent ; ce sont
Ceux dont un dessein ferme emplit l'âme et le front.
Ceux qui d'un haut destin gravissent l'âpre cime.
Ceux qui marchent pensifs, épris d'un but sublime.
Contrasted Songs: Remonstrance
© Jean Ingelow
Daughters of Eve! your mother did not well:
She laid the apple in your father’s hand,
And we have read, O wonder! what befell,—
The man was not deceived, nor yet could stand:
He chose to lose, for love of her, his throne,—
With her could die, but could not live alone.
Childhood
© Jens Baggesen
There was a time when I was very small,
When my whole frame was but an ell in height;
Sweetly, as I recall it, tears do fall,
And therefore I recall it with delight.
Cast Away Care
© Thomas Dekker
Cast away care; he that loves sorrow
Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to-morrow ;
Money is trash, and he that will spend it,
Let him drink merrily, fortune will send it.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, oh, ho !
Play it off stiffly, we may not part so.
Can a kiss be sweeter? (Canti di Milosao, excerpt from canto IV)
© Jeronim de Rada
It was Sunday morning
And the son of the noble matron
Clifden, In Cunnemara
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Here the vast daughters of the eastward tide,
Heaved from the bosoms of the' Atlantic deep,
Lay down the burthen of their mighty forms,
Like some diviner natures of our kind,
Cut
© Sylvia Plath
What a thrill -
My thumb instead of an onion.
The top quite gone
Except for a sort of hinge
Chard Whitlow
© Henry Reed
And pray for me also under the draughty stair.
As we get older we do not get any younger.
And pray for Kharma under the holy mountain.
Coda
© Basil Bunting
A strong song tows
us, long earsick.
Blind, we follow
rain slant, spray flick
to fields we do not know.
Caesar's Wife
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
NAY! swear no more, thou woman whom I called
Star, Empress, Wife! Were Dian's self to lean
From her white altar and with goddess lip
Swear thee as pure as her pale breast divine,
I could not deem thee purer than I know
Thou art indeed.
Cock-Crowing
© Henry Vaughan
Father of lights! what sunny seed,
What glance of day hast Thou confined
Into this bird? To all the breed
This busy ray Thou hast assigned;
Their magnetism works all night,
And dreams of paradise and light.
Christmas
© Henry Timrod
How grace this hallowed day?
Shall happy bells, from yonder ancient spire,
Send their glad greetings to each Christmas fire
Round which the children play?
