Car poems
/ page 450 of 738 /The Firing-Line
© Henry Lawson
In the dreadful din of a ghastly fight they are shooting, murdering, men;
In the smothering silence of ghastly peace we murder with tongue and pen.
Where is heard the tap of the typewriterwhere the track of reform they mine
Where they stand to the frame or the linotypewe are all in the firingline.
Woman!
© George Crabbe
Thus in extremes of cold and heat,
Where wandering man may trace his kind;
Wherever grief and want retreat,
In Woman they compassion find;
She makes the female breast her seat,
And dictates mercy to the mind.
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Seventh
© William Wordsworth
"Powers there are
That touch each other to the quick--in modes
Which the gross world no sense hath to perceive,
No soul to dream of."
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto First
© William Wordsworth
FROM Bolton's old monastic tower
The bells ring loud with gladsome power;
The sun shines bright; the fields are gay
With people in their best array
Untitled, Unfinished Poem
© Thomas Parnell
The first who lovd me turnd wth tender eyes
Since ye rogue will why lett us sail she cryes
Her kind consent was sure for Love is kind
& Woman's Love when Love has won her mind
The second stopd then with a careless moan
Tis welltis dang'rous to be left alone
How Jack Made The Giants Uncommonly Sore
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
And this is The Moral that lies in the verse:
If you have a go farther, you're apt to fare
Worse.
(When you turn it around it is different rather: -
You're not apt to go worse if you have a fair
father!)
A Chippewa Legend
© James Russell Lowell
The old Chief, feeling now wellnigh his end,
Called his two eldest children to his side,
To a Friend
© William Lisle Bowles
Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng!
Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears;
Quare Fatigasti
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Two years ago I was thinking
On the changes that years bring forth;
For Louis Pasteur
© Edgar Bowers
How shall a generation know its story
If it will know no other? When, among
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Musician's Tale; The Ballad of Carmilhan - II.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The jolly skipper paused awhile,
And then again began;
"There is a Spectre Ship," quoth he,
"A ship of the Dead that sails the sea,
And is called the Carmilhan.
The Golden Legend: II. A Farm In The Odenwald
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Elsie._ Here are flowers for you,
But they are not all for you.
Some of them are for the Virgin
And for Saint Cecilia.
To Idleness
© Harriet Monroe
Sweet Idleness, you linger at the door
To lead me down through meadows cool with shade
Epilogue To 'She Stoops To Conquer'
© Oliver Goldsmith
WELL, having stoop'd to conquer with success,
And gain'd a husband without aid from dress,
On the Death of Mr. Crashaw
© Abraham Cowley
Poet and Saint! to thee alone are given
The two most sacred names of earth and heaven,
Der Freischutz
© Madison Julius Cawein
He? why, a tall Franconian strong and young,
Brown as a walnut the first frost hath hulled;
Songs Of Seven (complete)
© Jean Ingelow
There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover,
There’s no rain left in heaven:
I’ve said my “seven times” over and over,
Seven times one are seven.