Car poems
/ page 162 of 738 /A Long Bough
© Hayyim Nahman Bialik
A bough sank down on a fence, and fell asleep
so shall I sleep.
The fruit has fallen; and what do I care
for my root and stock?
Lac Souci
© William Henry Drummond
Talk about lakes! deres none dat lies in
Laurentide mountain or near de sea,
The Pink Carnation
© Henry Lawson
I may walk until Im fainting, I may write until Im blinded,
I might drink until my back teeth are afloat,
But I cant forget my ruin and the happy days behind it,
When I wore a pink carnation in my coat.
Lucifers Deputy
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A POET once, whose tuneful soul, perchance,
Too fondly leaned toward sin, and sin's romance,
On a long vanished eve, so calm and clear
None could have deemed an evil spirit near,
The Prisoner Of Chillon
© George Gordon Byron
Sonnet on Chillon
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Nathan The Wise - Act I
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
O Nathan, Nathan,
How miserable you had nigh become
During this little absence; for your house -
Nellie Lost and Found
© Henry Clay Work
Wake the boys to search for Nellie!
Stay not for the dawn;
Who shall sleep when from the mother's fold
One little lamb is gone.
Spear Thistle
© John Clare
Where the broad sheepwalk bare and brown
[Yields] scant grass pining after showers,
And winds go fanning up and down
The little strawy bents and nodding flowers,
There the huge thistle, spurred with many thorns,
The suncrackt upland's russet swells adorns.
I Want It Now
© Roald Dahl
Gooses, geeses
I want my geese to lay gold eggs for easter
At least a hundred a day
And by the way
An Epitaph on the Death of Nicholas Grimald
© Barnabe Googe
A thousand doltish geese we might have spared,
A thousand witless heads death might have found,
A taken them for whom no man had cared,
And laid them low in deep oblivious ground:
But fortune favors fool, as old men say,
And lets them live, and takes the wise away.
Seventeen
© Robert Nichols
All the loud winds were in the garden wood,
All shadows joyfuller than lissom hounds
The Man Who Saw
© William Watson
The master weavers at the enchanted loom
Of Legend, weaving long ago those tales
To a Lady, with Some Coloured Patterns of Flowers
© William Shenstone
Madam,-
Though rude the draughts, though artless seem the lines,
Epigram, On The Braziers' Company Having Resolved To Present An Address To Queen Caroline
© George Gordon Byron
The braziers, it seems, are preparing to pass
An address, and present it themselves all in brass,--
A superfluous pageant-for, by the Lord Harry!
They'll find where they're going much more than they carry.
Thalia
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I say it under the rose-
oh, thanks! -yes, under the laurel,
We part lovers, not foes;
we are not going to quarrel.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto III.
© George Gordon Byron
I.
Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child!