Car poems

 / page 145 of 738 /
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The Grave

© John Le Gay Brereton

In the grey dawn I lie within my bed

Still as a frozen lake that pats no more

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The Hunting Horn Of Chalemagne

© Caroline Norton

Heard midst the rushing of the torrent's fall,
From castled crag to roofless ruin'd hall,
Down the ravine's precipitous descent,
Thro' the wild forest's rustling boughs it went,
Upon the lake's blue bosom linger'd fond,
And faintly answer'd from the hills beyond:

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The Periwinkle Girl

© William Schwenck Gilbert

I've often thought that headstrong youths
Of decent education,
Determine all-important truths,
With strange precipitation.

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The Sage Enamoured And The Honest Lady

© George Meredith

Our world believes it stabler if the soft
Are whipped to show the face repentance wears.
Then hear it, in a moan of atheist gloom,
Deplore the weedy growth of hypocrites;
Count Nature devilish, and accept for doom
The chasm between our passions and our wits!

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Old North Sydney

© Henry Lawson

THEY’RE shifting old North Sydney—

  Perhaps ’tis just as well—

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Bravery

© James Russell Lowell

  We will speak on; we will be heard;
  Though all earth's systems crack,
  We will not bate a single word,
  Nor take a letter back.

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The War Sonnets: IV The Dead

© Rupert Brooke

There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day.  And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness.  He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.

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The Pathway Of The Living

© Edgar Albert Guest

The pathway of the living is our ever-present care.
Let us do our best to smooth it and to make it bright and fair;
Let us travel it with kindness, let's be careful as we tread,
And give unto the living what we'd offer to the dead.

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Red Jacket

© Fitz-Greene Halleck

COOPER, whose name is with his country's woven,
First in her files, her PIONEER of mind—
A wanderer now in other climes, has proven
His love for the young land he left behind;

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The Witch of Wenham

© John Greenleaf Whittier

I.
Along Crane River's sunny slopes
Blew warm the winds of May,
And over Naumkeag's ancient oaks
The green outgrew the gray.

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From Italy

© Richard Monckton Milnes

It is a happy thought, I ween,
That, with my heart and fancy free,
Though seas and nations lie between,
I still am side by side with Thee.

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St. John Baptist's Day

© John Keble

Twice in her season of decay

The fallen Church hath felt Elijah's eye

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Breitmann’s Going To Church

© Charles Godfrey Leland

D'VAS near de state of Nashfille,
In de town of Tennessee,
Der Breitmann vonce vas quarderd
Mit all his cavallrie.

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The Battle Of The Lake Regillus

© Thomas Babbington Macaulay

A Lay Sung at the Feast of Castor and Pollux on the Ides of Quintilis in the year of the City CCCCLI.

I.

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Thoughts At A Vestibule

© Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov

Heavenly thunder doesn't frighten you,
Earthly thunders you hold in your hands
That is why these unknown men must carry
Grief disconsolate within their hearts.

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Laurance - [Part 3]

© Jean Ingelow

But when that other heard, "It is the end,"
His heart was sick, and he, as by a power
Far stronger than himself, was driven to her.
Reason rebelled against it, but his will
Required it of him with a craving strong
As life, and passionate though hopeless pain.

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The Old School List

© James Kenneth Stephen

  In a wild moraine of forgotten books, 
  On the glacier of years gone by,
  As I plied my rake for order's sake,
  There was one that caught my eye:

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The Current Of Time's River

© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin

The current of time's river
Will carry off all human deeds
And sink into oblivion
All peoples, kingdoms and their kings.

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The Idumean Cantos 1-12

© Basilio Ponce de Leon

Along the bridge corpulence
In the form of great pigs
Hopping on pogo-sticks
Is headed for their own
Pilgrimage down Southward.

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The Faithful Friend

© Caroline Norton

O, FRIEND! whose heart the grave doth shroud from human joy or woe,
Know'st thou who wanders by thy tomb, with footsteps sad and slow?
Know'st thou whose brow is dark with grief? whose eyes are dim with tears?
Whose restless soul is sinking with its agony of fears?
Whose hope hath fail'd, whose star hath sunk, whose firmest trust deceived,
Since, leaning on thy faithful breast, he loved and believed?