Car poems
/ page 480 of 738 /To Linger in a Garden Fair
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
MIRTH, Spring, to linger in a garden fair,
What more has earth to give? All ye that wait,
Where is the Cup-bearer, the flagon where?
When pleasant hours slip from the hand of Fate,
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Care killed a cat, and I have cares at home,
Which vex me nightly and disturb my bed.
The things I love have all grown wearisome;
The things that loved me are estranged or dead.
The Terrible Robber Men
© Padraic Colum
OH I wish the sun was bright in the sky,
And the fox was back in his den O!
For always I'm hearing the passing by
Of the terrible robber men O!
Of the terrible robber men.
Sonnet 16: In Nature Apt
© Sir Philip Sidney
In nature apt to like when I did see
Beauties, which were of many carats fine,
My boiling sprites did thither soon incline,
And, Love, I thought that I was full of thee:
Trial by Jury
© William Schwenck Gilbert
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
The Last Prophecy Of Cassandra
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE sun is fading in the skies,
And evening shades are gathering fast;
Fair city, ere that sun shall rise,
Thy night hath come,-thy day is past!
The Joy Of A Dog
© Edgar Albert Guest
Ma says no, it's too much care
An' it will scatter germs an' hair,
When Lide Married _Him_
© James Whitcomb Riley
When Lide married _him_--w'y, she had to jes dee-fy
The whole poppilation!--But she never bat' an eye!
Inheritance
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THERE lived a man who raised his hand and said,
"I will be great!"
And through a long, long life he bravely knocked
At Fame's closed gate.
The South Country
© Hilaire Belloc
When I am living in the Midlands
That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
My work is left behind;
And the great hills of the South Country
Come back into my mind.
Though Some Good Things Of Lower Worth
© Anna Laetitia Waring
The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance. Psalm 16:5.
Though some good things of lower worth
Hymn On Solitude
© James Thomson
Hail, mildly pleasing Solitude,
Companion of the wise and good,
But from whose holy piercing eye
The herd of fools and villains fly.
Stanzas Written In My Pocket Copy Of Thomsons "Castle Of Indolence"
© William Wordsworth
WITHIN our happy Castle there dwelt One
Whom without blame I may not overlook;
For never sun on living creature shone
Who more devout enjoyment with us took:
The Solitary
© Madison Julius Cawein
Upon the mossed rock by the spring
She sits, forgetful of her pail,
Lost in remote remembering
Of that which may no more avail.
Heat
© Archibald Lampman
From plains that reel to southward, dim,
The road runs by me white and bare;
The Distant Guns
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Negligently the cart--track descends into the valley;
The drench of the rain has passed and the clover breathes;
Scents are abroad; in the valley a mist whitens
Along the hidden river, where the evening smiles.
When Lincoln Died
© Katharine Lee Bates
A five-year old in a Cape Cod village, twenty miles from the rail,
Falmouth, Falmouth, loveliest Falmouth,
Wearing her silvery, pearl-embroidered ocean mist for a veil;
Her sweet God's Acre a windsome garden whither often would weepers bear
Their gifts of flowers, dear dooryard flowers,
To pale stones carved with a ship or anchor, though no mound was molded there;
The Shepherds Calendar - November
© John Clare
The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;
And, if the sun looks through, 'tis with a face
Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon,
When done the journey of her nightly race,