Car poems
/ page 393 of 738 /Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Finale
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
These are the tales those merry guests
Told to each other, well or ill;
Like summer birds that lift their crests
Above the borders of their nests
And twitter, and again are still.
The Reading Club
© Patricia Goedicke
Is dead serious about this one, having rehearsed it for two weeks
they bring it right into the Odd Fellows Meeting Hall.
Riding the backs of the Trojan Women,
In Euripides’ great wake they are swept up,
A Wedding
© James Tate
She was in terrible pain the whole day,
as she had been for months: a slipped disc,
and there is nothing more painful. She
Ode To Autumn
© Lord Alfred Douglas
Thou sombre lady of down-bended head,
And weary lashes drooping to the cheek,
Three Songs at the End of Summer
© Jane Kenyon
A second crop of hay lies cut
and turned. Five gleaming crows
search and peck between the rows.
They make a low, companionable squawk,
and like midwives and undertakers
possess a weird authority.
L'Envoi
© James Russell Lowell
Whether my heart hath wiser grown or not,
In these three years, since I to thee inscribed,
Sonnet CXLVII: My love is a fever, longing still
© William Shakespeare
My love is a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
From The Spanish Cancioneros
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
II.
Some day, some day
O troubled breast,
Shalt thou find rest.
Queen-Anne’s Lace
© William Carlos Williams
Her body is not so white as
anemony petals nor so smooth—nor
Seele im Raum
© Randall Jarrell
It is over.
It is over so long that I begin to think
That it did not exist, that I have never—
And my son says, one morning, from the paper:
“An eland. Look, an eland!”
—It was so.
Address For The Opening Of The Fifth Avenue Theatre
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HANG out our banners on the stately tower
It dawns at last--the long-expected hour!
The steep is climbed, the star-lit summit won,
The builder's task, the artist's labor done;
Before the finished work the herald stands,
And asks the verdict of your lips and hands!
"The Old Psalm Tune"
© Harriet Beecher Stowe
You asked, dear friend, the other day,
Why still my charmed ear
Rejoiceth in uncultured tone
That old psalm tune to hear?
The Bushman
© Anonymous
When the merchant lies down, he can scarce go to sleep
For thinking of his merchandise upon the fatal deep;
His ships may be cast away or taken in a war,
So him alone we'll envy not, who true bushmen are.
The Magic of Numbers
© Kenneth Koch
The Magic of Numbers—1
How strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs!
Contrasted Songs: Song For The Night Of Christ's Resurrection
© Jean Ingelow
(A Humble Imitation)
And birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.