Poems begining by C
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Columns
© Rudyard Kipling
(Mobile Columns of the Boer War)
Out o' the wilderness, dusty an' dry
(Time, an' 'igh time to be trekkin' again!)
Oo is it 'eads to the Detail Supply?
A sectioin, a pompom, an' six 'undred men.
Cold Iron
© Rudyard Kipling
Cold is for the mistress -- silver for the maid --
Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade."
"Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall,
"But Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of them all."
Cleared
© Rudyard Kipling
Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt,
Help for an honourable clan sore trampled in the dirt!
From Queenstown Bay to Donegal, O listen to my song,
The honourable gentlemen have suffered grievous wrong.
Cities and Thrones and Powers
© Rudyard Kipling
Cities and Thrones and Powers,
Stand in Time's eye,
Almost as long as flowers,
Which daily die:
Christmas in India
© Rudyard Kipling
Dim dawn behind the tamerisks -- the sky is saffron-yellow --
As the women in the village grind the corn,
And the parrots seek the riverside, each calling to his fellow
That the Day, the staring Easter Day is born.
Cholera Camp
© Rudyard Kipling
We've got the cholerer in camp -- it's worse than forty fights;
We're dyin' in the wilderness the same as Isrulites;
It's before us, an' be'ind us, an' we cannot get away,
An' the doctor's just reported we've ten more to-day!
Chapter Headings
© Rudyard Kipling
When the earth was sick and the skies were grey,
And the woods were rotted with rain,
The Dead Man rode through the autumn day
To visit his love again.
Chant-Pagan
© Rudyard Kipling
Me that 'ave been what I've been --
Me that 'ave gone where I've gone --
Me that 'ave seen what I've seen --
'Ow can I ever take on
Certain Maxims Of Hafiz
© Rudyard Kipling
I.
If It be pleasant to look on, stalled in the packed serai,
Does not the Young Man try Its temper and pace ere he buy?
If She be pleasant to look on, what does the Young Man say?
"Lo! She is pleasant to look on, give Her to me to-day!"
Cells
© Rudyard Kipling
I've a head like a concertina: I've a tongue like a button-stick:
I've a mouth like an old potato, and I'm more than a little sick,
But I've had my fun o' the Corp'ral's Guard: I've made the cinders fly,
And I'm here in the Clink for a thundering drink and blacking the Corporal's eye.
Cain and Abel
© Rudyard Kipling
Cain and Abel were brothers born.
(Koop-la! Come along, cows!)
One raised cattle and one raised corn.
(Koop-la! Come along! Co-hoe!)
Can I Forget?
© Madison Julius Cawein
Can I forget how LOVE once led the ways
Of our two lives together, joining them;
Couplet
© Amir Khusro
Oh Khusrau, the river of love
Runs in strange directions.
One who jumps into it drowns,
And one who drowns, gets across.
Chorus Of Mystae In Hades
© Aristophanes
_Xanthias_--There, master, there they are, the initiated
All sporting about as he told us we should find 'em.
They're singing in praise of Bacchus like Diagoras.
Considering The Snail
© Thom Gunn
The snail pushes through a green
night, for the grass is heavy
with water and meets over
the bright path he makes, where rain
has darkened the earth's dark. He
moves in a wood of desire,
Carnal Knowledge
© Rebecca Elson
Having picked the final datum
From the universe
And fixed it in its column,
Named the causes of infinity,
Composed While The Author Was Engaged In Writing A Tract Occasioned By The Convention Of Cintra
© William Wordsworth
NOT 'mid the world's vain objects that enslave
The free-born Soul--that World whose vaunted skill
In selfish interest perverts the will,
Whose factions lead astray the wise and brave--
Church-Musick
© George Herbert
Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure
Did through my bodie wound my minde,
You took me thence; and in your house of pleasure
A daintie lodging me assign'd.
Colophon
© Aleister Crowley
TO LAYLAH EIGHT-AND-TWENTYLamp of living loveliness,
Maid miraculously male,
Rapture of thine own excess
Blushing through the velvet veil
Crazy Jane And Jack The Journeyman
© William Butler Yeats
I know, although when looks meet
I tremble to the bone,
The more I leave the door unlatched
The sooner love is gone,
For love is but a skein unwound
Between the dark and dawn.
