Car poems

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Fand, A Feerie Act II

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

In the land of the living are kingdoms twain,
Kingdoms twain,--nay, kingdoms three;
One is of sunshine and one of rain,
And one of the moonlight without a stain.
The moonlight people, of these are we,
The ever--happy, the Sidhe, the Sidhe.

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The Coo Of The Cushat

© Ada Cambridge

Over the smooth lawns, broider'd with violets,
 Over the hedges of snow-white thorn,
Over the billowy, pink apple-blossoms,
 The musical coo of the cushat is borne.

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Heads And Tails

© Franklin Pierce Adams

If a single man is studious and quiet, people say
  He is grouchy, he is old before his time;
If he's frivolous and flippant, if he treads the primrose way,
  Then they mark him for a wild career of crime.

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Ballad of Agincourt

© Michael Drayton

Fair stood the wind for France

When we our sails advance,

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To A Friend Studying German

© Charles Godfrey Leland

VILL'ST dou learn die Deutsche Sprache?
Denn set it on your card,
Dat all the nouns have shenders,
Und de shenders all are hard.

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A Meeting

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Quite carelessly I turned the newsy sheet;
A song I sang, full many a year ago,
Smiled up at me, as in a busy street
One meets an old-time friend he used to know.

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The Papal Benediction, From St. Peter’s

© Richard Monckton Milnes

Higher than ever lifted into space,
Rises the sove'ran dome,--
Into the Colonnade's immense embrace
Flows all the life of Rome;

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To Sergei Esenin

© Vladimir Mayakovsky

You have passed, as they say, into worlds elsewhere.
Emptiness...
Fly, cutting your way into starry dubiety.
No advances, no pubs for you there.

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Accolon Of Gaul: Part IV

© Madison Julius Cawein

Hate, born of Wrath and mother red of Crime,

  In Hell was whelped ere the hot hands of time,

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Children's Playground In The City

© Edith Nesbit

THIS is a place where men laid their dead,

  Each with his life-tale of good or ill;

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Tea

© Margaret Widdemer

THEY'VE flowers and cakes and candle-light,

  And chair by crowded chair,

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The Unhappy Lot Of Mr. Knott

© James Russell Lowell

My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott,
  From business snug withdrawn,
Was much contented with a lot
That would contain a Tudor cot
'Twixt twelve feet square of garden-plot,
  And twelve feet more of lawn.

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Sticky Fingers

© Edgar Albert Guest

Wife says that I should be ashamed

To wear such garments as I do,

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Prose

© Stéphane Mallarme

Hyperbole! From my memory
Triumphantly can’t you
Rise today, like sorcery
From an iron-bound book or two:

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The Murdered Lover

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

Say a mass for my soul's repose, my brother,
  Say a mass for my soul's repose, I need it,
  Lovingly lived we, the sons of one mother,
  Mine was the sin, but I pray you not heed it.

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From the Persian of Hafiz I

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Butler, fetch the ruby wine,

  Which with sudden greatness fills us;

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A Little Child Shall Lead Them

© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Eagerly he grasped the writing;
"I am free!" at last he said.
Backward fell upon the pillow,
He was free among the dead.

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Arcadia Rediviva

© James Russell Lowell

I, walking the familiar street,
  While a crammed horse-car jingled through it,
Was lifted from my prosy feet
  And in Arcadia ere I knew it.

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In the Wood

© Boris Pasternak

Blurred by a lilac heat, the meadows:

in the wood, cathedral shadows swirled.