Car poems
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Verses Found in Bothwell's Pocket-book
© Sir Walter Scott
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright
As in that well-remember'd night
On Leaving Italy, For The Summer, On Account Of Health
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Thou summer--land! that dost put on the sun
Not as a dress of pomp occasional,
But as thy natural and most fitting one,--
Yet still thy Beauty has its festival,
The Cup Of Joy
© Madison Julius Cawein
Let us mix a cup of Joy
That the wretched may employ,
Whom the Fates have made their toy.
On A Wine Of Horace's
© Franklin Pierce Adams
What time I read your mighty line,
O Mr. Q. Horatius Flaccus,
In praise of many an ancient wine-
You twanged a wicked lyric to Bacchus!-
I wondered, like a Yankee hick,
If that old stuff contained a kick.
Expostulation
© William Cowper
Why weeps the muse for England? What appears
In England's case to move the muse to tears?
Though short thy span, God's unimpeach'd decrees
© George Canning
Though short thy span, God's unimpeach'd decrees,
Which made that shorten'd span one long disease,
Hermann And Dorothea - VIII. Melpomene
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
But she conceal'd the pain which she felt, and jestingly spoke thus
"It betokens misfortune,--so scrupulous people inform us,--
For the foot to give way on entering a house, near the threshold.
I should have wish'd, in truth, for a sign of some happier omen!
Let us tarry a little, for fear your parents should blame you
For their limping servant, and you should be thought a bad landlord."
Modern Greece
© Richard Monckton Milnes
As, in the legend which our childhood loved,
The destined prince was guided to the bed,
Where, many a silent year, the charmèd Maid
Lay still, as though she were not; nor could wake,
Say Goodbye when your Chum is Married
© Henry Lawson
Now this is a rhyme that might well be carried
Gummed in your hat till the end of things:
Lost Mr. Blake
© William Schwenck Gilbert
He was quite indifferent as to the particular kinds of dresses
That the clergyman wore at church where he used to go to pray,
And whatever he did in the way of relieving a chap's distresses,
He always did in a nasty, sneaking, underhanded, hole-and-corner
sort of way.
Virgils Gnat
© Edmund Spenser
And whatsoeuer other flowre of worth,
And whatso other hearb of louely hew
The iouyous Spring out of the ground brings forth,
To cloath her selfe in colours fresh and new;
He planted there, and reard a mount of earth,
In whose high front was writ as doth ensue.
Tired
© Augusta Davies Webster
No not to-night, dear child; I cannot go;
I'm busy, tired; they knew I should not come;
you do not need me there. Dear, be content,
and take your pleasure; you shall tell me of it.
There, go to don your miracles of gauze,
and come and show yourself a great pink cloud.
The Coming Of Te Rauparaha.
© Arthur Henry Adams
BLUE, the wreaths of smoke, like drooping banners
From the flaming battlements of sunset
Hung suspended; and within his whare
Hipe, last of Ngatiraukawa's chieftains,
The Sinking Ship
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The ship is sinking, come ye one and all.
Stand fast and so this weakness overhaul,
Verses Written At Bath, On Finding The Heel Of A Shoe
© William Cowper
Fortune! I thank thee: gentle goddess! thanks!
Not that my muse, though bashful, shall deny
The Borough. Letter XIX: The Parish-Clerk
© George Crabbe
WITH our late Vicar, and his age the same,
His clerk, hight Jachin, to his office came;
The like slow speech was his, the like tall slender
On Queen Anne's Peace, Anno 1713
© Thomas Parnell
Mother of plenty, daughter of the skies,
Sweet Peace, the troubl'd world's desire, arise;
Around thy poet weave thy summer shades,
Within my fancy spread thy flow'ry meads,
Amongst thy train soft ease and pleasure bring,
And thus indulgent sooth me whilst I sing.
A timid grace sits trembling in her eye
© Charles Lamb
A timid grace sits trembling in her eye,
As loath to meet the rudeness of men's sight,
My Annual
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
How long will this harp which you once loved to hear
Cheat your lips of a smile or your eyes of a tear?
How long stir the echoes it wakened of old,
While its strings were unbroken, untarnished its gold?
