Car poems
/ page 198 of 738 /Memories
© William Henry Drummond
O spirit of the mountain that speaks to us to-night,
Your voice is sad, yet still recalls past visions of delight,
When 'mid the grand old Laurentides, old when the earth was new,
With flying feet we followed the moose and caribou.
The Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie
© Robert Burns
Wi' glowrin een, and lifted han's
Poor Hughoc like a statue stan's;
He saw her days were near-hand ended,
But, wae's my heart! he could na mend it!
He gaped wide, but naething spak,
At length poor Mailie silence brak.
Babys First Word
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WE watched our baby day by day,
With earnest expectation,
To hear his infant lips unclose
In vague articulation.
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
ON FALLING ILL THROUGH GRIEF
Truce to thee, Soul! I have a debt to pay,
Which I acknowledge and without thy pleading.
I like thee little that thou barrest my way
Golden Dell
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
BEYOND our moss-grown pathway lies
A dell so fair, to genial eyes,
It dawns an ever-fresh surprise!
The Cattle-Dog's Death
© Henry Lawson
The Plains lay bare on the homeward route,
And the march was heavy on man and brute;
For the Spirit of Drought was on all the land,
And the white heat danced on the glowing sand.
The face I carry with melast
© Emily Dickinson
The face I carry with melast
When I go out of Time
To take my Rankbyin the West
That facewill just be thine
Olney Hymn 18: Lovest Thou Me?
© William Cowper
Hark my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word;
Jesus speaks and speaks to thee,
"Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?
Tale II
© George Crabbe
frame.
Yes! old and grieved, and trembling with decay,
Was Allen landing in his native bay,
Willing his breathless form should blend with
The Dream days
© Edgar Albert Guest
I LIKE the dream days best of all,
The hollyhocks against the wall;
Sir Lancelot Du Lake
© Thomas Percy
When Arthur first in court began,
And was approvèd king,
By force of armes great victorys wonne,
And conquest home did bring;
The Coffins by Michael Chitwood : American Life in Poetry #262 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
When we hear news of a flood, that news is mostly about the living, about the survivors. But at the edges of floods are the dead, too. Here Michael Chitwood, of North Carolina, looks at what’s floating out there on the margins.
The Coffins
Two days into the flood
The Regiment of Princes
© Thomas Hoccleve
Musynge upon the restlees bysynesse
Which that this troubly world hath ay on honde,
A Thanksgiving and Prayer for the Nation
© Thomas Traherne
From A Serious and Pathetical Contemplation of the Mercies of God
O Lord, the children of my people are Thy peculiar treasures,
The Last Memory
© Arthur Symons
When I am old, and think of the old days,
And warm my hands before a little blaze,
Having forgotten love, hope, fear, desire,
I shall see, smiling out of the pale fire,
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Prefatory Dialogue
© John Kenyon
Ye, thus who write in spite of critic law,
How had their satire kept your freaks in awe!
And, to sole sway controlling her pretence,
Bound Fancy down to compromise with Sense!
Children. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Come to me, O ye children!
For I hear you at your play,
And the questions that perplexed me
Have vanished quite away.