Car poems

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There Was A Boy

© William Wordsworth

There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs

And islands of Winander! many a time,

By night they haunted a thicket of April mist,
Out of that black ground suddenly come to birth,
Else angels lost in each other and fallen on earth.
Lovers they knew they were, but why unclasped, unkissed?
Why should two lovers be frozen apart in fear?
And yet they were, they were.

The Last Tournament

© Alfred Tennyson

To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'

A Hymn To Venus

© Sappho

O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gaily false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles;
O goddess, from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.

"On a sleigh, padded with straw"

© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

On a sleigh, padded with straw,
Barely covered by the fateful mat,
From the Vorobevy hills to the familiar chapel
We rode through enormous Moscow.

November In Ireland

© Alice Guerin Crist

November days in Ireland
The skies are dull and grey,
But Oh! The clear strong flame of love,
That burns by night and day.
As swift and bright the whispered prayers fly to the Heavens O'erhead,
From faithful hearts in Ireland, remembering their dead.

To Children: For Tyrants

© George Meredith

Strike not thy dog with a stick!
I did it yesterday:
Not to undo though I gained
The Paradise: heavy it rained
On Kobold's flanks, and he lay.

To Lamartine

© James Russell Lowell

I did not praise thee when the crowd,
'Witched with the moment's inspiration,
Vexed thy still ether with hosannas loud,
And stamped their dusty adoration;
I but looked upward with the rest,
And, when they shouted Greatest, whispered Best.

Marmion: Introduction to Canto VI.

© Sir Walter Scott

Heap on more wood! the wind is chill;

But let it whistle as it will,

London - in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal

© Samuel Johnson

'--Quis ineptae

Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?' ~ Juv.

The Little HandMaiden

© Archibald Lampman

The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!

The Death Of President Lincoln

© Joseph Furphy

Now let the howling tempest roar
For Booth can feel its force no more;
Now let the captors bend their steel
Against the form that cannot feel
Their tyranny has spent its hour
And Booth is far beyond their power.

In Memory Of Douglas Vernon Cow

© Muriel Stuart

To twilight heads comes Death as comes a friend.
As with the gentle fading of the year
Fades rose, folds leaf, falls fruit, and to their end
Unquestioning draw near,
Their flowering over, and their fruiting done,
Fulfilled and finished and going down with the sun.

Fallen Cities

© Gerald Gould

I gathered with a careless hand,

There where the waters night and day

The Flowers

When Love arose in heart and deed

To wake the world to greater joy,

Dreading

SOMETIMES when they are tucked in bed the gentle mother comes to me
And talks about each curly head, and wonders what they're going to be.
She tells about the fun they've had while I was toiling far away,
Recalls the bright things that the lad and little girl have had to say.
Each morning is a pleasure new, and gladness overflows the cup,
And then she says: "What will we do, what will we do when they're grown up?"