Car poems
/ page 317 of 738 /"The Undying One" - Canto II
© Caroline Norton
'Neath these, and many more than these, my arm
Hath wielded desperately the avenging steel--
And half exulting in the awful charm
Which hung upon my life--forgot to feel!
Fragment VI
© James Macpherson
Son of the noble Fingal, Oscian,
Prince of men! what tears run down
the cheeks of age? what shades thy
mighty soul?
A Woman's Complaint
© Anonymous
I know that deep within your heart of hearts
You hold me shrined apart from common things,
And that my step, my voice, can bring to you
A gladness that no other pleasure brings.
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter V
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Griselda's madness lasted forty days,
Forty eternities! Men went their ways,
And suns arose and set, and women smiled,
And tongues wagged lightly in impeachment wild
Epilogue Intended To Have Been Spoken For 'She Stoops To Conquer'
© Oliver Goldsmith
'Enter' MRS. BULKLEY,
'who curtsies very low as beginning to speak.
Then enter' MISS CATLEY,
'who stands full before her, and curtsies to the audience'.
The Swan-Neck
© Charles Kingsley
Thus fell Harold, bracelet-giver;
Jesu rest his soul for ever;
Angles all from thrall deliver;
Miserere Domine.
The Song Of Hiawatha XVIII: The Death Of Kwasind
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Far and wide among the nations
Spread the name and fame of Kwasind;
Tale XVI
© George Crabbe
cause -
This creature frights her, overpowers, and awes."
Six weeks had pass'd--"In truth, my love, this
Molonys Lament
© William Makepeace Thackeray
O TIM, did you hear of thim Saxons,
And read what the peepers report?
They're goan to recal the Liftinant,
And shut up the Castle and Coort!
To ------ On The Various Styles Of Poetry
© Thomas Parnell
I hate ye vulgar with untunefull ears
Soules uninspird & negligent of verse
Hence ye prophane be farr removd away
While to my powr I woud my friend repay
She Sat Alone Beside Her Hearth
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
SHE sat alone beside her hearth
For many nights alone;
She slept not on the pleasant couch
Where fragrant herbs were strewn.
My Birthday
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Beneath the moonlight and the snow
Lies dead my latest year;
The winter winds are wailing low
Its dirges in my ear.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 08:
© Conrad Aiken
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower
Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour:
At the deep sudden stroke the pigeons fly . . .
The fine snow flutes the cracks between the flagstones.
We close our coats, and hurry, and search the sky.
To The Painted Columbine
© Jones Very
Bright image of the early years
When glowed my cheek as red as thou,
And life's dark throng of cares and fears
Were swift-winged shadows o'er my sunny brow!
Bruno The Hunter
© William Henry Drummond
You never hear tell, Marie, ma femme,
Of Bruno de hunter man,
Wit' hees wild dogs chasin' de moose an' deer,
Every day on de long, long year,
Off on de hillside far an' near,
An' down on de beeg savane?
'If my head hurt a hair's foot'
© Dylan Thomas
'If my head hurt a hair's foot
Pack back the downed bone. If the unpricked ball of my breath
Bump on a spout let the bubbles jump out.
Sooner drop with the worm of the ropes round my throat
Than bully ill love in the clouted scene.