Car poems

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Sonnet IV.

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

FRIEND, dear as Memory's joys! of life that 's past
A part, and part of better life to come,
If life to come there be, in some dear home
Beyond the rigid clouds that overcast

Best

© Helen Hunt Jackson

Mother, I see you with your nursery light,
Leading your babies, all in white,
To their sweet rest;
Christ, the Good Shepherd, carries mine tonight,
And that is best.

Hymn For The Use Of The Sunday School At Olney

© William Cowper

Hear, Lord, the song of praise and prayer,
In heaven thy dwelling-place,
From infants, made the public care,
And taught to seek thy face!

Thomas Carlyle

© Dorothy Parker

Carlyle combined the lit'ry life
With throwing teacups at his wife,
Remarking, rather testily,
"Oh, stop your dodging, Mrs. C.!"

The Best State Constitution

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

I can recognize only as such, the one that enables

Each to think what is right,-but that he thinks so, cares not.

The Girl's Lamentation

© William Allingham

With grief and mourning I sit to spin;
My Love passed by, and he didn't come in;
He passes by me, both day and night,
And carries off my poor heart's delight.

Constable MCartys Investigations

© Henry Lawson

Most unpleasantly adjacent to the haunts of lower orders

Stood a terrace in the city when the current year began,

One hour ago the crimson sun, that seemed so long a-drowning, sank.
The summer day is all but done. Our boat is moored beneath the bank.
I bask in peace, content, replete-my faithful comrade at my feet.

Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 01

© Torquato Tasso

THE ARGUMENT.

Satan his fiends and assembleth all,

The Themes

© Millosh Gjergj Nikolla

On the pallid faces of fallen women
Loitering in doorways to sell themselves,
On their faces a tragic poem is carved
In tears and grief that rise to the heavens,

Grace Darling or "The Wreck of the Forfarshire"

© William Topaz McGonagall

As the night was beginning to close in one rough September day
In the year of 1838, a steamer passed through the Fairway
Between the Farne Islands and the coast, on her passage northwards;
But the wind was against her, and the steamer laboured hard.

Song #2

© John Clare

One gloomy eve I roamed about

Neath Oxey's hazel bowers,

Tell Me

© George MacDonald

"Traveller, what lies over the hill?
Traveller, tell to me:
Tip-toe-high on the window-sill
Over I cannot see."

The Lovers Secret

"Bravo, Annex!" they shouted, every one,--
"Not Mrs. Kemble's self had better done."
"Quite so," she stammered in her awkward way,--
Not just the thing, but something she must say.