Car poems
/ page 197 of 738 /
A Story Of Doom: Book IV.
© Jean Ingelow
Now while these evil ones took counsel strange,
The son of Lamech journeyed home; and, lo!
Tentacles of Time
© Kabir
The Saints Have Died, The God-Messengers Die
The Life-Filled Yogis Die Too |
The Kings Die, The Subjects Die
The Healers and the Sick Die Too ||
The Path to the Woods
© Madison Julius Cawein
ITS friendship and its carelessness
Did lead me many a mile,
The Brothers
© Madison Julius Cawein
Not far from here, it lies beyond
That low-hilled belt of woods. We'll take
This unused lane where brambles make
A wall of twilight, and the blond
Brier-roses pelt the path and flake
The margin waters of a pond.
The Tower Beyond Tragedy
© Robinson Jeffers
I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
Que Adorable Mania....!
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Que adorable manía de decir
en mi pobreza y en mi desamparo:
soy mas rico, muy más que un gran visir:
el corazón que amé se ha vuelto faro!
The Better Job
© Edgar Albert Guest
If I were running a factory
I'd stick up a sign for all to see,
I'd print it large and I'd nail it high
On every wall that the men walked by,
And I'd have it carry this sentence clear:
"The Better Job that you want is here!'*
Celia To Damon
© Matthew Prior
What can I say? What Arguments can prove
My Truth? What Colors can describe my Love?
If it's Excess and Fury be not known,
In what Thy Celia has already done?
The Shattered Dream
© Edgar Albert Guest
I WAS somewhere off in Europe spending money like a king,
Owned a yacht like J. P. Morgan's, when the 'phone began to ring;
I was entertaining princes, dukes and earls, when wifie said:
"It's the telephone that's ringing, you must hustle out of bed."
And I wandered down the stairway, grumbling o'er my vanished joy,
Growled: "Hello;" and then he shouted: "You're an uncle! It's a boy!"
The Age of a Dream
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
Gone now, the carven work! Ruined, the golden shrine!
No more the glorious organs pour their voice divine;
No more rich frankincense drifts through the Holy Place:
Now from the broken tower, what solemn bell still tolls,
Mourning what piteous death? Answer, O saddened souls!
Who mourn the death of beauty and the death of grace.
The Leaf
© Duncan Campbell Scott
This silver-edged geranium leaf
Is one sign of a bitter grief
Whose symbols are a myriad more;
They cluster round a carven stone
Where she who sleeps is never alone
For two hearts at the core,
In Evil Long I Took Delight
© John Newton
In evil long I took delight,
Unawed by shame or fear,
Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopped my wild career.
This is No Case of Petty Right or Wrong
© Edward Thomas
This is no case of petty right or wrong
That politicians or philosophers
Latter-Day Warnings
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHEN legislators keep the law,
When banks dispense with bolts and looks,
When berries--whortle, rasp, and straw--
Grow bigger downwards through the box,--
Dis Manibus
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Gustave Flaubert, whose honoured rôle
Was to be scribe to Nero's soul,
A Thanksgiving For F. D. Maurice
© George MacDonald
The veil hath lifted and hath fallen; and him
Who next it stood before us, first so long,
We see not; but between the cherubim
The light burns clearer: come-a thankful song!
