Car poems

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Helian

© Georg Trakl

In the spirits solitary hours
It is lovely to walk in the sun
Along the yellow walls of summer.
Quietly whisper the steps in the grass; yet always sleeps
The son of Pan in the grey marble.

The Ghost's Return

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

Skirlin' an' birlin', tunin' an' croonin',
Reelin' an' skreelin', they piped doun the glen,
Lang Hugh an' black Sandie, Ian Dhu an' wee Dandie,
Wha wad na gang wi' the braw Hielan'men?

Pairing Time Anticipated. A Fable

© William Cowper

Moral
Misses! the tale that I relate
This lesson seems to carry
Choose not alone a proper mate,
But proper time to marry.

Fancies At Leisure - II

© William Michael Rossetti

I. In Spring

The sky is blue here, scarcely with a stain

The Idlers Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. August

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

ON THE THAMES
The river Thames has many a dear delight
In summer days for souls which know not guile,
Or souls too careless of the vain world's spite

Nature and Art For an Album

© John Henry Newman

"Man goeth forth" with reckless trust
Upon his wealth of mind,
As if in self a thing of dust
Creative skill might find;
He schemes and toils; stone, wood and ore
Subject or weapon of His power.

Babel

© Caroline Norton

KNOW ye in ages past that tower
By human hands built strong and high?
Arch over arch, with magic power,
Rose proudly each successive hour,
To reach the happy sky.

Execution, The: A Sporting Anecdote Hon. Mr. Sucklethumbkin's Story

© Richard Harris Barham

My Lord Tomnoddy got up one day;
It was half after two,
He had nothing to do,
So his Lordship rang for his cabriolet.

Windsor Forest

© Alexander Pope

Thy forests, Windsor! and thy green retreats,

At once the Monarch's and the Muse's seats,

A Landscape

© John Cunningham

Now that summer's ripen'd bloom
Frolics where the winter frown'd,
Stretch'd upon these banks of broom,
We command the landscape round.

Autumn I

© Thomas Hood

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like Silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,

Sonnet X.

FORGIVE that thus the trumpet I have blown
You never sounded never cared to hear.
The world, I know, can give no smile or tear
To those whose story it has never known.

Don Juan: Canto The First

I want a hero: an uncommon want,

When every year and month sends forth a new one,

It's bedtime, and we lock the door,
Put out the lights--the day is o'er;
All that can come of good or ill,
The record of this day to fill,
Is written down; the worries cease,
And old and young may rest in peace.