Poems begining by C
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Come, Gentle God
© James Thomson
Come, gentle God of soft desire,
Come and possess my happy breast,
Not fury-like in flames and fire,
Or frantic folly's wildness dressed;
Crouchin On The Outside
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
One two three four five six seven eight hey baby you're a little too late
I'm standin' on the outside lookin' in at you on the inside
Lookin' out at me on the outside lookin' in
Through the window of my madness at a place I never been
Choriambics
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
What strange faces of dreams, voices that called, hands that were raised to wave,
Lured or led thee, alas, out of the sun, down to the sunless grave?
Christmas Shopping in Cactus Center
© Arthur Chapman
Women's scarce in Cactus Center, and there ain't no bargain stores
Fer to start them Monday rushes that break down the stoutest doors;
But we had some Christmas shoppin' that the town ain't over yet,
Jest because of one small woman and a drug store toilet set.
Couldn't Live Without You
© Edgar Albert Guest
You're just a little fellow with a lot of funny ways,
Just three-foot-six of mischief set with eyes that fairly blaze;
You're always up to something with those busy hands o' yours,
And you leave a trail o' ruin on the walls an' on the doors,
An' I wonder, as I watch you, an' your curious tricks I see,
Whatever is the reason that you mean so much to me.
Comrades An Episode
© Robert Nichols
The silent sun over the earth held sway,
Occasional rifles cracked, and far away
A heedless speck, a 'plane, slid on alone
Like a fly traversing a cliff of stone.
Christmas in the year of the War
© Katharine Tynan
The stem, the branch quickeneth
With sap, this year of Death.
Child-Songs
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Still linger in our noon of time
And on our Saxon tongue
The echoes of the home-born hymns
The Aryan mothers sung.
Clair De Lune
© Paul Verlaine
Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair,
Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,
That play on lutes and dance and have an air
Of being sad in their fantastic trim.
Could we as Mortals
© Charles Harpur
Could we as mortals but our end foresee,
How little in our minds the world would be;
Could we as spirits but this life renew,
And be again incarnate as we were,
How little might be done like what we do,
How little cared for that which now is most our care
Carson McCullers
© Charles Bukowski
she died of alcoholism
wrapped in a blanket
on a deck chair
on an ocean
steamer.
Centennial
© John Hay
A hundred times the bells of Brown
Have rung to sleep the idle summers,
And still to-day clangs clamoring down
A greeting to the welcome comers.
Commination
© John Keble
The prayers are o'er: why slumberest thou so long,
Thou voice of sacred song?
Canto XIII: Kung Walked
© Ezra Pound
And they said: If a man commit murder
Should his father protect him, and hide him?
And Kung said:
He should hide him.
Chaap Tilak
© Amir Khusro
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Calidore: A Fragment
© John Keats
The sidelong view of swelling leafiness,
Which the glad setting sun, in gold doth dress;
Whence ever, and anon the jay outsprings,
And scales upon the beauty of its wings.
Chorus of Brids
© Aristophanes
YE Children of Man! whose life is a span,
Protracted with sorrow from day to day,
