Car poems
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To A Young Mother On The Birth Of Her First Born Child
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Young mother! proudly throbs thine heart, and well may it rejoice,
Well mayst thou raise to Heaven above in grateful prayer thy voice:
A gift hath been bestowed on thee, a gift of priceless worth,
Far dearer to thy womans heart than all the wealth of earth.
The Past
© Charles Harpur
And hope herself admits: To thee
But a darkening scene
Only slow days of care and doubt,
Only a dreary lengthening out,
Of what this later past hath been.
The Columbiad: Book III
© Joel Barlow
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
Address To A Maid
© Charles Mair
If those twin gardens of delight,
Thine eyes, were ever in my sight,
Mourning Women
© Mathilde Blind
Most wretched women! whom your prophet dooms
To take love's penalties without its prize!
Yes; you shall bear the unborn in your wombs,
And water dusty death with streaming eyes,
And, wailing, beat your breasts among the tombs;
But souls ye have none fit for Paradise.
Reflections III.
© Samuel Rogers
The heart, they say, is wiser than the schools;
And well they may. All that is great in thought,
That strikes at once as with electric fire,
And lifts us, as it were, from earth to heaven,
Rose and Murray
© Conrad Aiken
After the movie, when the lights come up,
He takes her powdered hand behind the wings;
My Sweet Brown Gal
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
W'EN de clouds is hangin' heavy in de sky,
An' de win's 's a-taihin' moughty vig'rous by,
Spring Storm
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
I love a storm in early May
When springtime's boisterous, firstborn thunder
Over the sky will gaily wander
And growl and roar as though in play.
Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - A Solemn Dirge
© Oliver Goldsmith
ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise,
And waken every note of woe;
When truth and virtue reach the skies,
'Tis ours to weep the want below!
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 06
© William Langland
"This were a wikkede wey but whoso hadde a gyde
That [myghte] folwen us ech a foot' - thus this folk hem mened.
Of The Son of Man
© George MacDonald
I. I honour Nature, holding it unjust
To look with jealousy on her designs;
Elegy
© James Beattie
Tired with the busy crowds, that all the day
Impatient throng where Folly's altars flame,
My languid powers dissolve with quick decay,
Till genial Sleep repair the sinking frame.
Creative Work
© Valery Yaklovich Bryusov
The shadow of uncreated creatures
Flickers in sleep,
Like palm fronds
On an enamel wall.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
She watched me curiously with mocking eyes,
Yet tenderly, till once again her mirth
Prevailed with her, and quick in feigned surprise
Thrusting me back, ``Ah, traitor!'' she broke forth,
Insomnia by Rynn Williams: American Life in Poetry #145 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I try floating out along the long O of lone,
to where it flattens to loss, and just stay there
disconnecting the dots of my night sky
as one would take apart a house made of sticks,
carefully, last addition to first,
like sheep leaping backward into their pens.
American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright © 2007 by Rynn Williams, whose most recent book of poetry is âAdonis Garage,â? University of Nebraska Press, 2005. Poem reprinted from âColumbia Poetry Review,â? no. 20, Spring 2007, by permission of Rynn Williams. Introduction copyright © 2009 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.
The Rapid
© Charles Sangster
Fast downward they're dashing,
Each fearless eye flashing,
Though danger awaits them on every side.
Yon rocksee it frowning!
They strikethey are drowning!
The Fire-side
© Nathaniel Cotton
Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd,
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
In folly's maze advance;
Tho' singularity and pride
Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside,
Nor join the giddy dance.
