Car poems
/ page 148 of 738 /The Improvisatore, Or, 'John Anderson, My Jo, John'
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improvisatore ; here he comes. Kate has a favour
to ask of you, Sir ; it is that you will repeat the ballad [Believe me if
all those endearing young charms.-EHC's ? note] that Mr. ____ sang so
sweetly.
By The Grave Of Henry Timrod
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN last we parted--thy frail hand in mine--
Above us smiled September's passionless sky,
And touched by fragrant airs, the hillside pine
Thrilled in the mellow sunshine tenderly;
The Doe: A Fragment (From Wandering Willie)
© George Meredith
And-'Yonder look! yoho! yoho!
Nancy is off!' the farmer cried,
The Dead Look
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
LO! in its still, soft-shrouded place,
The pathos of a death-pale face!
I view the marks of mortal care
Time's hopeless sorrows branded there.
Edwin and Angela, A Ballad
© Oliver Goldsmith
'Turn, gentle hermit of the dale,
And guide my lonely way,
To where yon taper cheers the vale
With hospitable ray.
The Idle Shepherd Boys
© William Wordsworth
The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among the hills the echoes play
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
The Story of Prince Agib
© William Schwenck Gilbert
STRIKE the concertina's melancholy string!
Blow the spirit-stirring harp like anything!
Let the piano's martial blast
Rouse the Echoes of the Past,
For of AGIB, PRINCE OF TARTARY, I sing!
Adam Lindsay Gordon
© William Henry Ogilvie
'Two things stand like stone,' he said
Courage and Kindness.' Gallant Dead!
Long may the stone of his statue stand
That his fame may endure in his foster-land,
And never a careless world forget
That in this man Courage and Kindness met !
A Lament
© Franklin Pierce Adams
While she I loved is being torn
From arms that held her many years,
Dost thou regard me, friend, with scorn,
Or seek to check my tears?
Elegy (Tir'd With The Busy Crouds)
© James Beattie
Tir'd with the busy crouds, that all the day
Impatient throng where Folly's altars flame,
My languid powers dissolve with quick decay,
Till genial Sleep repair the sinking frame.
The Comedian As The Letter C: 01 - The World Without Imagination
© Wallace Stevens
Nota: man is the intelligence of his soil,
The sovereign ghost. As such, the Socrates
The Future Life
© William Cullen Bryant
How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps
The disembodied spirits of the dead,
When all of thee that time could wither sleeps
And perishes among the dust we tread?
Youth's Inexperience.
© Robert Crawford
He is too young yet to know life's demands;
Being no natural philosopher,
He must from cause and custom draw that art
Which some of Nature have, the primal gift
My Job
© Edgar Albert Guest
I wonder where's a better job than buying cake and meat,
And chocolate drops and sugar buns for little folks to eat?
And who has every day to face a finer round of care
Than buying frills and furbelows for little folks to wear?