Car poems
/ page 280 of 738 /
The Floorless Room
© Gelett Burgess
I Wish that my Room had a Floor!
I don't so Much Care for a Door,
But this Crawling Around
Without Touching the Ground
Is Getting to be Quite a Bore!
The One I Think of Now by Wesley McNair: American Life in Poetry #100 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
Here the Maine poet, Wesley McNair, offers us a vivid description of a man who has lived beyond himself. I'd guess you won't easily forget this sad old man in his apron with his tray of cheese.
The One I Think of Now
To Thomas Moore
© George Gordon Byron
What are you doing now,
Oh Thomas Moore?
What are you doing now,
Oh Thomas Moore?
The Trout Map
© Allen Tate
The Management Area of Cherokee
National Forest, interested in fish,
Has mapped Tellico and Bald Rivers
And North River, with the tributaries
Brookshire Branch and Sugar Cove Creek:
A fishy map for facile fishery
Fine
© Edgar Albert Guest
Isn't it fine when the day is done,
And the petty battles are lost or won,
When the gold is made and the ink is dried,
To quit the struggle and turn aside
To spend an hour with your boy in play,
And let him race all of your cares away?
The Princess (part 5)
© Alfred Tennyson
Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
'She must weep or she will die.'
Night Song Of A Wandering Shepherd In Asia
© Giacomo Leopardi
What doest thou in heaven, O moon?
Say, silent moon, what doest thou?
To Sir Walter Scott
© William Lisle Bowles
ON ACCIDENTLY MEETING AND PARTING WITH SIR WALTER SCOTT, WHOM I HAD NOT
SEEN FOR MANY YEARS, IN THE STREETS OF LONDON
The Lost Galleon
© Francis Bret Harte
In sixteen hundred and forty-one,
The regular yearly galleon,
Laden with odorous gums and spice,
India cottons and India rice,
And the richest silks of far Cathay,
Was due at Acapulco Bay.
To My Mother
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Than all the diamond's crystal rays,
Than all the emerald's lucid blaze;
And joys of heav'n would thrill thy heart,
To bid one bosom-grief depart,
One tear, one sorrow cease!
Mr. Hosea Biglow To The Editor Of The Atlantic Monthly
© James Russell Lowell
DEAR SIR,--Your letter come to han'
Requestin' me to please be funny;
Weltschmertz
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
You ask why I am sad to-day,
I have no cares, no griefs, you say?
Ah, yes, 't is true, I have no grief--
But--is there not the falling leaf?
Clari
© Henry Kendall
Too cold, O my brother, too cold for my wife
Is the Beauty you showed me this morning:
Wortermelon Time
© James Whitcomb Riley
Old wortermelon time is a-comin' round again,
And they ain't no man a-livin' any tickleder'n me,
Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin--
Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see.
A Christmas Fancy
© Robert Fuller Murray
Early on Christmas Day,
Love, as awake I lay,
And heard the Christmas bells ring sweet and clearly,
My heart stole through the gloom
Into your silent room,
And whispered to your heart, `I love you dearly.'
The Lure That Failed
© Edgar Albert Guest
I know a wonderful land, I said,
Where the skies are always blue,
Palm Sunday: Naples
© Arthur Symons
Because it is the day of Palms,
Carry a palm for me,
Carry a palm in Santa Chiara,
And I will watch the sea;
There are no palms in Santa Chiara
To-day or any day for me,
To A Young Lady, With A Poem On The French Revolution
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Much on my early youth I love to dwell,
Ere yet I bade that friendly dome farewell,
Where first, beneath the echoing cloisters, pale,
I heard of guilt and wondered at the tale!
