Car poems
/ page 411 of 738 /
Lichen Glows in the Moonlight
© John Kinsella
Lichen glows in the moonlight
so fierce only cloud blocking
the moon brings relief. Then passed by,
recharged it leaps up off rocks
En Un Jardin
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Al decir que las penas son fugaces
En tanto que la dicha persevera,
Tu cara es sugestiva y hechicera
Y juegan a los novios los rapaces.
"When Burbadge Played"
© Henry Austin Dobson
WhenN Burbadge played, the stage was bare
Of fount and temple, tower and stair;
Two backswords eked a battle out;
Two supers made a rabble rout;
The throne of Denmark was a chair!
Poems - Written On The Deaths Of Three Lovely Children
© Jean Ingelow
Yellow leaves, how fast they flutter-woodland hollows thickly strewing,
Where the wan October sunbeams scantly in the mid-day win,
While the dim gray clouds are drifting, and in saddened hues imbuing
All without and all within!
To Giusue Carducci
© George William Lewis Marshall-Hall
O RICH and splendid soul that overflowest
With light and fire caught from thy native skies!
Ancestor
© James Russell Lowell
It was a time when they were afraid of him.
My father, a bare man, a gypsy, a horse
Full Moon
© Elinor Wylie
My bands of silk and miniver
Momently grew heavier;
The black gauze was beggarly thin;
The ermine muffled mouth and chin;
I could not suck the moonlight in.
Rich And Poor
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Neath the radiance faint of the starlit sky
The gleaming snow-drifts lay wide and high;
Oer hill and dell stretched a mantle white,
The branches glittered with crystal bright;
But the winter winds keen icy breath
Was merciless, numbing and chill as death.
Fears In Solitude. Written In April, 1798, During The Alarm Of An Invasion
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A green and silent spot, amid the hills,
A small and silent dell! O'er stiller place
No singing sky-lark ever poised himself.
The hills are heathy, save that swelling slope,
An Essay on Man: Epistle I
© Alexander Pope
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke
Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things
The Fiddler
© Robert Fuller Murray
There's a fiddler in the street,
And the children all are dancing:
Two dozen lightsome feet
Springing and prancing.
London Snow
© John Hall Wheelock
When men were all asleep the snow came flying,
In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
The Habitants Summer
© William Henry Drummond
O, who can blame de winter, never min'
de hard he 's blowin'
Pygmaeo-gerano-machia: The Battle Of The Pygmies and Cranes
© James Beattie
Nor less th' alarm that shook the world below,
Where march'd in pomp of war th' embattled foe;
Where mannikins with haughty step advance,
And grasp the shield, and couch the quivering lance;
To right and left the lengthening lines they form,
And rank'd in deep array await the storm.
Scriblerian Epigrams
© Thomas Parnell
Our Carys a Delicate Poet; for What?
For having writt? No: but for having writ not.
Vernal Ode
© William Wordsworth
I
BENEATH the concave of an April sky,
When all the fields with freshest green were dight,
Appeared, in presence of the spiritual eye
To a Mountain Daisy
© Robert Burns
Alas! it's no thy neibor sweet,
The bonie lark, companion meet,
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet
Wi' spreck'd breast,
When upward-springing, blythe, to greet
The purpling east.
From Violence to Peace
© James Russell Lowell
Twenty-eight shotgun pellets
crater my thighs, belly and groin.
I gently thumb each burnt bead,
fingering scabbed stubs with ointment.
