Car poems
/ page 183 of 738 /Lessons of English
© Boris Pasternak
And when Ophelia sang a ballad-
In her last hours among the living-
All dryness of her soul was carried
Aloft by gusts of wind, like cinders.
The Dunciad: Book III.
© Alexander Pope
But in her Temple's last recess inclos'd,
On Dulness' lap th' Anointed head repos'd.
A Wreath Of Sonnets (9/14)
© France Preseren
They were all fed on many a plaint and tear
The humble blooms on my Parnassus grown;
My tears of love flowed not for you alone,
But also for the land I hold so dear.
Thoughts Fer The Discuraged Farmer
© James Whitcomb Riley
The summer winds is sniffin' round the bloomin'
locus' trees;
The Elm
© Robert Laurence Binyon
O that I had a tongue, that could express
Half of that peace thou ownest, darkling Tree!
A slumber, shaded with the heaviness
That droops thy leaves, hangs deeply over me.
The Fishermen
© John Greenleaf Whittier
HURRAH! the seaward breezes
Sweep down the bay amain;
Heave up, my lads, the anchor!
Run up the sail again!
The Days when we went Swimming
© Henry Lawson
The breezes waved the silver grass,
Waist-high along the siding,
Heraclitus
© William Johnson Cory
They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead,
They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed.
The Unsettled Scores
© Edgar Albert Guest
The men are talking peace at 'ome, but 'ere we're talking fight,
There's many a little debt we've got to square;
A sniper sent a bullet through my bunkie's 'ead last night,
And 'is body's lying somewhere h'over there.
Ode A La Fortune
© Jean-Baptiste Rousseau
Fortine dont la main couronne
Les forfaits les plus inouis,
Off Shore
© Celia Thaxter
Rock, little boat, beneath the quiet sky,
Only the stars behold us where we lie, -
Only the stars and yonder brightening moon
Fit The Seventh - The Banker's Fate
© Lewis Carroll
But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
For he knew it was useless to fly.
The Little Left Hand - Act III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Interior of a Church--Davis, Bradshaw, and others.
Davis. The sword of the Lord and the sword of Gideon!
It was good To see the red--coats run before our multitude.
We broke them by sheer numbers--
Will And I
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I.
WE roam the hills together,
In the golden summer weather,
Will and I:
On The Death Of Mr. Fox
© George Gordon Byron
THE FOLLOWING ILLIBERAL IMPROMPTU APPEARED IN A MORNING PAPER:
'Our nation's foes lament on Fox's death,
But bless the hour when PITT resign'd his breath:
These feelings wide, let sense and truth unclue,
We give the palm where Justice points its due.'
The Wail Of The Waiter
© Marcus Clarke
All day long, at Scott's or Menzies', I await the gorging crowd,
Panting, penned within a pantry, with the blowflies humming loud,