Car poems

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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 typewriter—where the track of reform they mine—
Where they stand to the frame or the linotype—we are all in the firingline.

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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.

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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."

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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

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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 well—tis dang'rous to be left alone

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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!)

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Autumn

© James Whitcomb Riley

As a harvester, at dusk,

  Faring down some woody trail

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A Chippewa Legend

© James Russell Lowell

The old Chief, feeling now wellnigh his end,

Called his two eldest children to his side,

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Read—Sweet—how others—strove

© Emily Dickinson

260

Read—Sweet—how others—strove—

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To a Friend

© William Lisle Bowles

Go, then, and join the murmuring city's throng!

Me thou dost leave to solitude and tears;

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Quare Fatigasti

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

Two years ago I was thinking

On the changes that years bring forth;

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For Louis Pasteur

© Edgar Bowers

How shall a generation know its story


If it will know no other? When, among

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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.

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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.

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A Deed And A Word

© Charles Mackay

  A little stream had lost its way

  Amid the grass and fern;

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To Idleness

© Harriet Monroe

Sweet Idleness, you linger at the door

To lead me down through meadows cool with shade—

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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,

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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,

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Der Freischutz

© Madison Julius Cawein

He? why, a tall Franconian strong and young,

  Brown as a walnut the first frost hath hulled;

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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.