Car poems
/ page 108 of 738 /
A Word to Texas Jack
© Henry Lawson
You may talk about your ridin in the city, bold an free,
Talk o ridin in the city, Texas Jack, but whered yer be
When the stock horse snorts an bunches all is quarters in a hump,
And the saddle climbs a sapling, an the horse-shoes split a stump?
The Child
© Sara Coleridge
See yon blithe child that dances in our sight!
Can gloomy shadows fall from one so bright?
Fond mother, whence these fears?
While buoyantly he rushes o'er the lawn,
Dream not of clouds to stain his manhood's dawn,
Nor dim that sight with tears.
Gentle Alice Brown
© William Schwenck Gilbert
It was a robber's daughter, and her name was ALICE BROWN,
Her father was the terror of a small Italian town;
Her mother was a foolish, weak, but amiable old thing;
But it isn't of her parents that I'm going for to sing.
The Head Of Bran The Blest
© George Meredith
When the Head of Bran
Was firm on British shoulders,
God made a man!
Cried all beholders.
Ballad
© Frances Anne Kemble
The Lord's son stood at the clear spring head,
The May on the other side,
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto VIII.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III The Kiss
I saw you take his kiss! 'Tis true.
O, modesty! 'Twas strictly kept:
He thought me asleep; at least, I knew
He thought I thought he thought I slept.
The Sylphs Of The Seasons
© Washington Allston
Long has it been my fate to hear
The slave of Mammon, with a sneer,
Soneto
© Gregorio de Matos Guerra
Ilha de Itaparica, alvas areias,
Alegres praias, frescas, deleitosas;
Ricos polvos, lagostas deliciosas,
Farta de putas, rica de baleias.
A Tale Of True Love
© Alfred Austin
Not in the mist of legendary ages,
Which in sad moments men call long ago,
And people with bards, heroes, saints, and sages,
And virtues vanished, since we do not know,
But here to-day wherein we all grow old,
But only we, this Tale of True Love will be told.
A Carrion
© Allen Tate
Remember now, my Love, what piteous thing
We saw on a summer's gracious day:
By the roadside a hideous carrion, quivering
On a clean bed of pebbly clay,
Amours De Voyage, Canto II
© Arthur Hugh Clough
P.S.
Mary has seen thus far.-I am really so angry, Louisa,-
Quite out of patience, my dearest! What can the man be intending?
I am quite tired; and Mary, who might bring him to in a moment,
Lets him go on as he likes, and neither will help nor dismiss him.
Suffering
© Mathilde Blind
Thus in some new-found land where no man's feet
Have trod a path, bold voyagers astray,
May fall foredone by torturing thirst and heat:
But from the impotent body of defeat-
The winners spring who carve a conquering way-
Measured by milestones of their perished clay.
The Ring And The Book - Chapter I - The Ring And The Book
© Robert Browning
DO you see this Ring?
Tis Rome-work, made to match
Toward The Future
© Yeghishe Charents
Like an enormous disc made of iron
The brave will of our thousands of brothers,
So universal -
We have already thrown with immense force
Toward all the winds of the coming days,
Toward - the Future...
The Lady Of La Garaye - Conclusion
© Caroline Norton
PEACE to their ashes! Far away they lie,
Among their poor, beneath the equal sky.
Among their poor, who blessed them ere they went
For all the loving help and calm content.
