Car poems
/ page 249 of 738 /
Upon the Kings happy return from Scotland
© Henry King
So breaks the day when the returning Sun
Hath newly through his Winter Tropick run,
As You (Great Sir!) in this regress come forth
From the remoter Climate of the North.
Mercury And The Elephant
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Or shou'd my Friends Excuses frame,
And beg the Criticks not to blame
(Since from a Female Hand it came)
Defects in Judgment, or in Wit;
They'd but reply - Then has she Writ!
A Wish
© Edgar Albert Guest
I'd like to be a boy again, a care-free prince of joy again,
I'd like to tread the hills and dales the way I used to do;
Bid McCrae
© Alice Guerin Crist
The church was wrapped in darkness save for the alter-light,
And save where near the marble rail six tapers glimmered bright
Oer waxen heavy-scented flowers and coffin plated deep,
Where the good wife, Mary Halloran lay in her last long sleep.
Perdita
© Jean Ingelow
I go beyond the commandment.'
So be it. Then mine be the blame,
The loss, the lack, the yearning, till life's last sand be run,-
I go beyond the commandment, yet honour stands fast with her claim,
And what I have rued I shall rue; for what I have done-I have done.
The Progress Of A Divine: Satire
© Richard Savage
All priests are not the same, be understood!
Priests are, like other folks, some bad, some good.
What's vice or virtue, sure admits no doubt;
Then, clergy, with church mission, or without;
When good, or bad, annex we to your name,
The greater honour, or the greater shame.
The Gunners
© Gertrude Bartlett
The shining dead men, rank on rank, appear,
Their voices raised in one great cry, to hail
The gunners prone, for whom reveille clear
Their silver bugles blow in morning pale.
Your battle, God! to make men great; and here,
In that cause, dead, unvanquished, we prevail.
Disenchantment Of Death
© Madison Julius Cawein
Hush! She is dead! Tread gently as the light
Foots dim the weary room. Thou shalt behold.
Look:--In death's ermine pomp of awful white,
Pale passion of pulseless slumber virgin cold:
Bold, beautiful youth proud as heroic Might--
Death! and how death hath made it vastly old.
Ovid. Trist. Lib. V. Elegy XII.
© William Cowper
You bid me write to amuse the tedious hours,
And save from withering my poetic powers;
An English Girl
© William Schwenck Gilbert
A wonderful joy our eyes to bless,
In her magnificent comeliness,
Written Upon The Rocks At Tunbridge,
© Mary Barber
Hither, amongst the Crouds, that shun
The smoaky Town, and sultry Sun,
In cooling Springs to seek for Health,
Or throw away superfluous Wealth,
A Native of Hibernia came,
Thus writ her Thoughts, but not her Name.
Sleepy Harry
© Ann Taylor
"I DO not like to go to bed,"
Sleepy little Harry said;
"Go, naughty Betty, go away,
I will not come at all, I say! "
What Have We All Forgotten?
© Henry Lawson
WHAT have we all forgotten, at the break of the seventh year?
With a nation born to the ages and a Bad Time borne on its bier!
Public robbing, and lying that death cannot erase
Private strife and deceptionCover the bad dead face!
Drinking, gambling and madnessCover and bear it away
But what have we all forgotten at the dawn of the seventh day?
The Health-Food Diner
© Maya Angelou
No sprouted wheat and soya shoots
And Brussels in a cake,
Carrot straw and spinach raw,
(Today, I need a steak).
Archduchess Anne
© George Meredith
In middle age an evil thing
Befell Archduchess Anne:
She looked outside her wedding-ring
Upon a princely man.
The Prison Bell
© Owen Suffolk
Hark to the bell of sorrow! - 'tis awak'ning up again
Each broken spirit from its brief forgetfulness of pain.
"The Wishing Star."
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
Day floated down the sky; a perfect day,
Leaving a footprint of pale primrose gold
Home, Sweet Home
© John Howard Payne
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
