Car poems
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To The Sub-Prior
© Sir Walter Scott
Men of good are bold as sackless
Men of rude are wild and reckless,
Lie thou still
In the nook of the hill.
For those be before thee that wish thee ill.
An Impetuous Resolve
© James Whitcomb Riley
When little Dickie Swope's a man,
He's go' to be a Sailor;
To a Lady of Quality, Fitting Up Her Library
© William Shenstone
Ah! what is science, what is art,
Or what the pleasure these impart?
Ye trophies, which the learn'd pursue
Through endless, fruitless toils, adieu!
Beauty
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I think of a flower that no eye ever has seen,
That springs in a solitary air.
Is it no one's joy? It is beautiful as a queen
Without a kingdom's care.
Breitmann In Holland. Scheveningen, Or De Maidens Coorse
© Charles Godfrey Leland
HET vas Mijn Heer van Torenborg,
Ride oud oopon de sand,
Und vait to hear a paardeken;
Coom tromplin from de land.
Winter at St Andrews
© Robert Fuller Murray
Thus I unto my friend replied,
When, on a chill late autumn morn,
He pointed to the tree, and cried,
`The leaves are off Queen Mary's Thorn!'
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: LIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
For Esther was a woman most complete
In all her ways of loving. And with me
Dealt as one deals who careless of deceit
And rich in all things is of all things free.
The Foolish Elm
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The bold young Autumn came riding along
One day where an elm-tree grew.
To a Little Maid - by a Politician
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Come with me, little maid,
Nay, shrink not, thus afraid -
The House Of Life
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
A Sonnet is a moment's monument,
Memorial from the Soul's eternity
Contrasted Songs: Song Of Margaret
© Jean Ingelow
Ay, I saw her, we have met,
Married eyes how sweet they be
The Triumphs Of Philamore And Amoret. To The Noblest Of Our
© Richard Lovelace
Sir, your sad absence I complain, as earth
Her long-hid spring, that gave her verdures birth,
Who now her cheerful aromatick head
Shrinks in her cold and dismal widow'd bed;
Whilst the false sun her lover doth him move
Below, and to th' antipodes make love.
Childhood Alone Is Glad
© Charles Heavysege
Childhood alone is glad. With it time flees
In constant mimes and bright festivities.
Fauconshawe
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
To fetch clear water out of the spring
The little maid Margaret ran;
From the stream to the castle's western wing
It was but a bowshot span;
On the sedgy brink where the osiers cling
Lay a dead man, pallid and wan.
A Ballad Of The Two Knights
© Sara Teasdale
Two knights rode forth at early dawn
A-seeking maids to wed,
Said one, "My lady must be fair,
With gold hair on her head."
Inscriptions: III: Whoe'er Thou Art Whose Pat In Summer Lies
© Mark Akenside
Whoe'er thou art whose path in summer lies
Through yonder village, turn thee where the grove
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Fourth
© William Lisle Bowles
O'er my poor ANNA'S lowly grave
No dirge shall sound, no knell shall ring;
But angels, as the high pines wave,
Their half-heard "Miserere" sing.
