Car poems
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The Sniper
© Skeyhill Tom
I've seen the champions of the land, Shootin' out at Bisley,The Canadian back-woodsman Slay the roarin' Grizzly;I've seen the Monte Carlo sport Baggin' pigeons by the score,The crack shot on the stage, too, With his thousand tricks or more
The Wish of the Weary Woman
© Sigourney Lydia Huntley
A form there was, still spared by timeTill the slow century fill'd its prime;Stretch'd on its bed, with half-closed eyeIt mark'd uncertain shades flit by;Nor scarce the varied world of soundTo the seal'd ear admittance found;While the worn brow, in wrinkles dark,Seem'd like the gnarl'd oak's roughen'd bark
Indian Names
© Sigourney Lydia Huntley
"How can the red men be forgotten, while so many of our states and territories, bays, lakes and rivers, are indelibly stamped by names of their giving?"
I must not teaze my Mother
© Sigourney Lydia Huntley
I must not teaze my Mother; For she is very kind,And every thingshe says to me, I must directly mind:For when I was a baby
This is the house of Bedlam
© Elizabeth Bishop
This is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
Astrophel and Stella: Eight Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
In a groue most rich of shade,Where birds wanton musicke made,May then yong his pide weedes showing,New perfumed with flowers fresh growing, Astrophel with Stella sweete,Did for mutuall comfort meet,Both within themselues oppressed,But each in the other blessed
Astrophel and Stella: 101
© Sir Philip Sidney
Stella is sicke, and in that sicke bed liesSweetnesse, which breathes and pants as oft as she:And grace sick to, such fine conclusions tries,That sicknesse brags it selfe best graced to be
Astrophel and Stella: 98
© Sir Philip Sidney
Ah bed, the field where joyes peace some do see,The field where all my thoughts to warre be train'd,How is thy grace by my strange fortune stain'd!How thy lee shores by my sighes stormed be!With sweete soft shades thou oft invitest meTo steale some rest, but wretch I am constrain'd,(Spur'd with loues spur, though gold & shortly rain'dWith cares hard hand) to turne and tosse in thee
Astrophel and Stella: 95
© Sir Philip Sidney
Yet sighes, deere sighs, indeede true friends you are,That do not leaue your lest friend at the wurst,But as you with my breast I oft haue nurst,So gratefull now you waite vpon my care
Astrophel and Stella: 94
© Sir Philip Sidney
Griefe finde the words, for thou hast made my braineSo darke with misty vapours, which ariseFrom out thy heauy mould, that inbent eyesCan scarce discerne the shape of mine owne paine
Astrophel and Stella: 93
© Sir Philip Sidney
O fate, O fault, O curse, child of my blisse,What sobs can giue words grace my griefe to sho?What inke is blacke inough to paint my wo?Through me, wretch me, euen Stella vexed is
Astrophel and Stella: 92
© Sir Philip Sidney
Be your words made (good Sir) of Indian ware,That you allow me them by so small rate?Or do you cutted Spartanes imitate,Or do you meane my tender eares to spare?That to my questions you so totall are,When I demaund of Phœnix Stellas state,You say forsooth, you left her well of late:O God, thinke you that satisfies my care?I would know whether she sit or walke,How cloth'd, how waited on, sigh'd she or smilde,Whereof, with whom, how often did she talke,With what pastime, times journey she beguilde,If her lips daig'nd to sweeten my poore name,Say all, and all, well sayd, still say the same
Astrophel and Stella: 72
© Sir Philip Sidney
Desire, though thou my old companion art,And oft so clings to my pure Loue, that IOne from the other scarcely can descrie,While each doth blow the fiere of my hart;Now from thy fellowship I needs must part,Venus is taught with Dians wings to flie:I must no more in thy sweet passions lie;Vertues gold now must head my Cupids dart
Astrophel and Stella: 68
© Sir Philip Sidney
Stella, the onely Planet of my light,Light of my life, and life of my desire,Chiefe good, whereto my hope doth only aspire,World of my wealth, and heau'n of my delight
Astrophel and Stella: 64
© Sir Philip Sidney
No more, my deare, no more these counsels trie,O giue my passions leaue to run their race:Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace,Let folke orecharg'd with braine against me crie
Song of Solomon
© The Bible
22:001:004 Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into
his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will
remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.
Astrophel and Stella: 34
© Sir Philip Sidney
Come let me write, and to what end? to easeA burth'ned hart, how can words ease, which areThe glasses of thy dayly vexing care?Oft cruell sights well pictured foorth do please
Astrophel and Stella: 29
© Sir Philip Sidney
Like some weake Lords, neighbord by mighty kings,To keepe themselues and their chiefe cities free,Do easly yeeld, that all their coasts may beReady to store their campes of needfull things:So Stellas heart finding what power Loue brings,To keepe it selfe in life and liberty,Doth willing graunt, that in the frontiers heVse all to helpe his other conquerings:And thus her heart escapes, but thus her eyesSerue him with shot, her lips his heralds arre:Her breasts his tents, legs his triumphall carre:Her flesh his foode, her skin his armour braue,And I, but for because my prospect liesVpon that coast, am giu'n vp for a slaue
