Car poems
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Phantasmagoria Canto I (The Trystyng )
© Lewis Carroll
ONE winter night, at half-past nine,
Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy,
I had come home, too late to dine,
And supper, with cigars and wine,
Was waiting in the study.
The Truth About Envy
© Edgar Albert Guest
I like to see the flowers grow,
To see the pansies in a row;
The King Of Brentfords Testament
© William Makepeace Thackeray
The noble King of Brentford
Was old and very sick,
He summon'd his physicians
To wait upon him quick;
They stepp'd into their coaches
And brought their best physick.
A Day on the Big Branch
© Howard Nemerov
Still half drunk, after a night at cards,
with the grey dawn taking us unaware
Five Visions of Captain Cook
© Kenneth Slessor
Two chronometers the captain had,
One by Arnold that ran like mad,
One by Kendal in a walnut case,
Poor devoted creature with a hangdog face.
I Care Not for These Ladies
© Thomas Campion
I care not for these ladies,
That must be wooed and prayed:
Sonnet II. On A Discovery Made Too Late
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Thou bleedest, my poor heart! and thy distress
Reas'ning I ponder with a scornful smile
And probe thy sore wound sternly, tho' the while
Swollen be mine eye and dim with heaviness.
"Wreck" and "rise above"
© Hugo Williams
Because of the first, the fear of wreck,
which they taught us to fear (though we learned
the difference between a bad poet and a good one is luck
© Charles Bukowski
I suppose so.
I was living in an attic in Philadelphia
My Mother-Land
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Death! What of death?--
Can he who once drew honorable breath
In liberty's pure sphere,
Foster a sensual fear,
When death and slavery meet him face to face,
Pretty
© Stevie Smith
Why is the word pretty so underrated?
In November the leaf is pretty when it falls
The stream grows deep in the woods after rain
And in the pretty pool the pike stalks
Epistle to Miss Blount, On Her Leaving the Town, After the Coronation
© Alexander Pope
As some fond virgin, whom her mothers care
Drags from the town to wholesome country air,
Elegy (“Who keeps the owl’s breath?”)
© David St. John
—Tacitus
Who keeps the owl’s breath? Whose eyes desire?
Why do the stars rhyme? Where does
The flush cargo sail? Why does the daybook close?
The More a Man Has the More a Man Wants
© Paul Muldoon
At four in the morning he wakes
to the yawn of brakes,
Sonnet VII: How soon hath Time, the Subtle Thief of Youth
© Patrick Kavanagh
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
Ode For September
© Robert Laurence Binyon
On that long day when England held her breath,
Suddenly gripped at heart
And called to choose her part
Between her loyal soul and luring sophistries,
When From The Sod The Flow'rets Spring
© Walther von der Vogelweide
When from the sod the flow'rets spring,
And smile to meet the sun's bright ray,
