Car poems

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Custer: Book Second

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

I

Oh, for the power to call to aid, of mine

Granny Canty

© George MacDonald

"What maks ye sae canty, granny dear?
Has some kin' body been for ye to speir?
Ye luik as smilin an' fain an' willin
As gien ye had fun a bonny shillin!"

Grace

© John Crowe Ransom

WHO is it beams the merriest
At killing a man, the laughing one?
You are the one I nominate,
God of the rivers of Babylon.

Daylight Saving in Cactus Center

© Arthur Chapman

Down here in Cactus Center we believe in savin' time;

Unlike the waste of powder, wastin' daylight is a crime;

O splendid, spacious day, irradiate
With flaming dawns, when earth shows yet more fair
Her ardent beauty, proud, without alloy;
And wakening life breathes out her perfume rare
So potently, that, all intoxicate,
Our ravished being rushes upon joy!

Spring Has Come

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

THE sunbeams, lost for half a year,
Slant through my pane their morning rays;
For dry northwesters cold and clear,
The east blows in its thin blue haze.

A Child's Garden

© Rudyard Kipling

Now there is nothing wrong with me
Except - I think it's called T.B.
And that is why I have to lay
Out in the garden all the day.

Tidings

© Roderic Quinn

THE darkness gripped us, hot, intense;
The sea snored like some sleeping brute;
We stood alert, with every sense
Like some leashed hound, nerve-thrilled, acute.

In Hospital

© Robert Laurence Binyon

I
Nothing of itself is in the still'd mind, only
A still submission to each exterior image,
Still as a pool, accepting trees and sky,

Lines Addressed To A Young Lady

© George Gordon Byron

Doubtless, sweet girl! the hissing lead,
Wafting destruction o'er thy charms,
And hurtling o'er thy lovely head,
Has fill'd that breast with fond alarms.

A True Tale

© Mary Barber

Of Scripture--Heroes she would tell,
Whose Names they lisp'd, ere they could spell:
The Mother then, delighted, smiles;
And shews the Story on the Tiles.

Don Juan: Dedication

© George Gordon Byron

Bob Southey! You're a poet-Poet-laureate,

And representative of all the race;

His Lady Of The Sonnets IX

© Robert Norwood

Gods of the patient, vain endeavour, these
Claimed me and called me fellow, comrade, friend,
And bade me join in their brave litanies;
Because, though I had failed you, I dared bend
Before you without hope of one reward,
Save that in loving you my soul still soared.

Ah, Yesterday Was Dark And Drear

Ah, yesterday was dark and drear,
My heart was deadly sore;
Without thy love it seemed, my Dear,
That I could live no more.

"I swear to you, Love, by your arrows"

For theres a virtue born from suffering,
That dims and conquers the sense of pain,
So that its barely felt, seems scarcely hurting.
No! This, that torments soul and body again,
This is the real fear presaging my dying:
What if my fire be only straw and flame?