Car poems
/ page 389 of 738 /
The Child Of The Islands - Summer
© Caroline Norton
I.
FOR Summer followeth with its store of joy;
That, too, can bring thee only new delight;
Its sultry hours can work thee no annoy,
The Sleigh-Bells
© Susanna Moodie
Tis merry to hear, at evening time,
By the blazing hearth the sleigh-bells chime;
The Love of the World Reproved: or, Hypocrisy Detected
© William Cowper
Thus says the prophet of the Turk;
Good musselman, abstain from pork!
The Executive’s Death
© Robert Bly
Merchants have multiplied more than the stars of heaven.
Half the population are like the long grasshoppers
The End
© Mark Strand
Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end,
Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem like
When he’s held by the sea’s roar, motionless, there at the end,
Or what he shall hope for once it is clear that he’ll never go back.
Calm
© Charles Baudelaire
Have patience, O my sorrow, and be still.
You asked for night: it falls: it is here.
A shadowy atmosphere enshrouds the hill,
to some men bringing peace, to others care.
The Crystal Lithium
© James Schuyler
The smell of snow, stinging in nostrils as the wind lifts it from a beach
Eve-shuttering, mixed with sand, or when snow lies under the street lamps and on all
When To The Attractions Of The Busy World
© William Wordsworth
WHEN, to the attractions of the busy world,
Preferring studious leisure, I had chosen
A habitation in this peaceful Vale,
Sharp season followed of continual storm
The Weird Lady
© Charles Kingsley
The swevens came up round Harold the Earl,
Like motes in the sunnes beam;
And over him stood the Weird Lady,
In her charmed castle over the sea,
Sang 'Lie thou still and dream.'
The Unthinkable
© Simon Armitage
A huge purple door washed up in the bay overnight,
its paintwork blistered and peeled from weeks at sea.
The Spire
© Ellen Bryant Voigt
In the Bavarian steeple, on the hour,
two figures emerge from their scalloped house
The Ballad of Reading Gaol
© Oscar Wilde
He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby gray;
A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.
Summer near the River
© John Betjeman
I am as monogamous as the North Star,
But I don’t want you to know it. You’d only take advantage.
While you are as fickle as spring sunlight.
All right, sleep! The cat means more to you than I.
I can rouse you, but then you swagger out.
I glimpse you from the window, striding toward the river.
A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day
© John Donne
'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's,
Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks;
Metr: Boetius 1s 1 Quisquis Comp
© Thomas Parnell
The Man whose mind & actions still Sedate
Can bravely triumph ore ye thoughts of fate
