Car poems

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October on the Sheep Range

© Arthur Chapman

There ain't no leaves to turn to gold-
There ain't a tree in sight-
In other ways the herder's told
October's come, all right.

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The Family Fool

© William Schwenck Gilbert

Oh! a private buffoon is a light-hearted loon,

If you listen to popular rumour;

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Flight

© Boris Pasternak

Yesterday my wife held me here
as I thrashed and moaned, her hand 
in my foaming mouth, and my son 
saw what he was warned he might.

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September, 1918

© Amy Lowell

This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;

The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;

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Thanatopsis

© William Cullen Bryant

  To him who in the love of Nature holds 

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 

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from Odes, Book Three, 15

© Horace

I

A Tower of Brass, one would have said,

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Of Coarse Fools

© Sebastian Brant

Vile, scolding words do irritate,
Good manners thereby will abate
If sow-bell's rung from morn to late.

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from In Lovely Blue

© Friedrich Hölderlin

Like the stamen inside a flower 
The steeple stands in lovely blue 
And the day unfolds around its needle; 

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Morituri Salutamus: Poem for the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Class of 1825 in Bowdoin College

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tempora labuntur, tacitisque senescimus annis,
Et fugiunt freno non remorante dies.
Ovid, Fastorum, Lib. vi.
"O Cæsar, we who are about to die
Salute you!" was the gladiators' cry
In the arena, standing face to face
With death and with the Roman populace.

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I Shall not Care

© Sara Teasdale

When I am dead and over me bright April
 Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted,
 I shall not care.

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To a Young Poet

© Mahmoud Darwish

Don’t believe our outlines, forget them
and begin from your own words.
As if you are the first to write poetry
or the last poet.

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Discrimination

© Kenneth Rexroth

I don’t mind the human race. 

I’ve got pretty used to them 

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Verses Addressed To A Lady

© Henry James Pye

Of toil you say a moderate share

  In each pursuit should rise,

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Jacques Cartier’s First Visit To Mount Royal

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

He stood on the wood-crowned summit

  Of our mountain’s regal height,

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Orpheus with his Lute Made Trees

© William Shakespeare

Orpheus with his Lute made Trees,

And the Mountaine tops that freeze,

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A Vision of a Wrangler, of a University, of Pedantry, and of Philosophy

© James Clerk Maxwell

Deep St. Mary’s bell had sounded,

And the twelve notes gently rounded

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The Grand Canyon

© Henry Van Dyke

How still it is! Dear God, I hardly dare
To breathe, for fear the fathomless abyss
Will draw me down into eternal sleep.

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In Misty Blue

© Robert Laurence Binyon

In misty blue the lark is heard

Above the silent homes of men;

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Statement with Rhymes

© Weldon Kees

Plurality is all. I sympathize, but cannot grieve
too long for those who wear their dialectics on their sleeves. 
The pattern’s one I sometimes rather like; there’s really nothing wrong
with it for some. But I should add: It doesn’t wear for long, 
before I push the elevator bell and quickly leave.

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Orlando Furioso Canto 19

© Ludovico Ariosto

ARGUMENT

Medoro, by Angelica's quaint hand,