Car poems
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On William Sommers Of Bremhill
© William Lisle Bowles
When will the grave shelter thy few gray hairs,
O aged man! Thy sand is almost run,
L'Aveugle
© André Marie de Chénier
'Dieu dont l'arc est d'argent, dieu de Claros, écoute;
O Sminthée-Apollon, je périrai sans doute,
Si tu ne sers de guide à cet aveugle errant.'
The Path Of Life
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
So along the path we wanderedoh! the bliss of those short hours!
Youth and Hope and Joy together 'mid the everblooming flowers
That on life's smooth path were glowing soft beneath my naked feet,
Till I envied nought in Heaven, thinking here my lot complete.
Spectator ab Extra
© Arthur Hugh Clough
As I sat in the Café I said to myself,
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking,
But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.
Poem For The Dedication Of The Fountain At Stratford-On-Avon
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
PRESENTED BY GEORGE W. CHILDS, OF PHILADELPHIA
WELCOME, thrice welcome is thy silvery gleam,
Cyclamen
© Robert Fuller Murray
I had a plant which would not thrive,
Although I watered it with care,
I could not save the blossoms fair,
Nor even keep the leaves alive.
The Orange-Peel In The Gutter
© Mathilde Blind
BEHOLD, unto myself I said,
This place how dull and desolate,
Blessed Are The Dead. (From The German)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O, how blest are ye whose toils are ended!
Who, through death, have unto God ascended!
Ye have arisen
From the cares which keep us still in prison.
The Nation Builders
© George Essex Evans
A handful of workers seeking the star of a strong intent -
A handful of heroes scattered to conquer a continent -
Notes To A Neophyte
© Sylvia Plath
Take the general mumble,
blunt as the faceless gut
of an anonymous clam,
vernacular as the strut
of a slug or a small preamble
by snail under hump of home:
The Opossum-Hunters
© Henry Kendall
Twisted boughs shall tremble oer us, hollow woods shall moan before us,
And the torrents like a chorus down the gorges dark shall sing;
And the vines shall shake and shiver, and the startled grasses quiver,
Like the reeds beside a river in the gusty days of Spring;
While we forward haste delighted, through a region seldom lighted
Souls impatient, hearts excited like a wind upon the wing!
The Angler's Ballad
© Charles Cotton
AWAY to the brook,
All your tackle out look,
Here's a day that is worth a year's wishing;
See that all things be right,
For 'tis a very spite
To want tools when a man goes a-fishing.
When Rody Came To Ironbark
© Alice Guerin Crist
When Rody came to Ironbark, 'twas fun to watch the girls,
Such sorting out of frills and frocks such pinning up of curls,
there were no 'bob's no 'shingles' then but ringlets floated down,
and the the curling tongs worked overtime, when Rody came to town.
The Jailer
© Sylvia Plath
My night sweats grease his breakfast plate.
The same placard of blue fog is wheeled into position
With the same trees and headstones.
Is that all he can come up with,
The rattler of keys?
Romance Of A Youngest Daughter
© John Crowe Ransom
Who will wed the Dowagers youngest daughter,
The Captain? filled with ale?
He moored his expected boat to a stake in the water
And stumbled on sea-legs into the Hall for mating,
Only to be seduced by her lady-in-waiting,
Round-bosomed, and not so pale.
Pharsalia - Book III: Massilia
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Phoenicians first (if story be believed)
Dared to record in characters; for yet
Papyrus was not fashioned, and the priests
Of Memphis, carving symbols upon walls
Of mystic sense (in shape of beast or fowl)
Preserved the secrets of their magic art.
Translation From Millevoye
© Frances Anne Kemble
Fallen from thy parent bough,
Poor wither'd leaf, where goest thou?
From the mountain to the vale,
From the forest to the hill
I flutter, carried by the gale,
Hither, thither, at its will.
