Car poems
/ page 458 of 738 /
HMS Pinafore: Act II
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Same Scene. Night. Awning removed. Moonlight. Captain
discovered singing on poop deck, and accompanying himself on
a mandolin. Little Buttercup seated on quarterdeck, gazing
sentimentally at him.
To the Reverend George Coleridge, of Ottery St. Mary, Devon
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A blessed lot hath he, who having past
His youth and early manhood in the stir
And turmoil of the world, retreats at length,
With cares that move, not agitate the heart,
The Sparrow's Nest
© William Wordsworth
BEHOLD, within the leafy shade,
Those bright blue eggs together laid!
Anhelli - Chapter 6
© Juliusz Slowacki
For he knew not at all that there was a new generation in Poland,
and new knights and new martyrs ;
and he did not wish to know of it, being a man of the past.
A love song
© Yehudah HaLevi
"Do you see over my shoulders falling,
Snake-like ringlets waving free?
Have no fear, for they are twisted
To allure you unto me."
The Wonder-Working Magician - Act I
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
TO THE MEMORY OF
SHELLEY,
WHOSE ADMIRATION FOR
"THE LIGHT AND ODOUR OF THE FLOWERY AND STARRY AUTOS"
IS THE HIGHEST TRIBUTE TO THE BEAUTY OF
CALDERON'S POETRY,
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part II
© Caroline Norton
A FIRST walk after sickness: the sweet breeze
That murmurs welcome in the bending trees,
When the cold shadowy foe of life departs,
And the warm blood flows freely through our hearts:
Memory's River
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In Nature's bright blossoms not always reposes
That strange subtle essence more rare than their bloom,
Poem Of Poverty
© Millosh Gjergj Nikolla
Poverty's child is raised in the shadows
Of great mansions, too high for imploring voices to reach
To disturb the peace and quiet of the lords
Sleeping in blissful beds beside their ladies.
My Friend
© Khalil Gibran
My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear--a
care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee
from my negligence.
The Old Water Mill
© Madison Julius Cawein
Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hills arise,
Between whose breezy vistas gulfs of skies
Mountaineer-Song
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Deep in a glen, retir'd and green,
How sweetly smiles my native cot;
Where peace, and joy, and love serene,
Have sanctified the tranquil spot!
Italy : 42. Naples
© Samuel Rogers
This region, surely, is not of the earth.
Was it not dropt from heaven? Not a grove,
Citron or pine or cedar, not a grot
Sea-worn and mantled with a gadding vine,
