Car poems

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Ballade Of Barren Roses

© Gertrude Bartlett

O Mystic Rose, the heart of Jesu, fair
 Creative source from which all beauty flows,
Ever transfusing Love, hear now my prayer:
 Resume for Love's own sake one barren rose.

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The Viceroy. A Ballad.

© Matthew Prior

Of Nero, tyrant, petty king,
Who heretofore did reign
In famed Hibernia, I will sing,
And in a ditty plain.

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Vertumnus and Pomona : Ovid's Metamorphoses, book 14 [v. 623-771]

© Alexander Pope

The fair Pomona flourish'd in his reign;

Of all the Virgins of the sylvan train,

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Consummatum Est

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

I'VE done with all the world can give,
Whate'er its kind or measure.
(O Christ! what paltry lives we live
If toil be lord, or pleasure!).

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Outer Space

© William Matthews

If you could turn the moon
on a lathe, you would
because you are curious.

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The Angel In The House. Book II. The Prologue.

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

II
  ‘The pulse of War, whose bloody heats
  ‘Sane purposes insanely work,
  ‘Now with fraternal frenzy beats,
  ‘And binds the Christian to the Turk,
  ‘And shrieking fifes’—

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On The Edge Of The Wilderness

© William Morris

Whence comest thou, and whither goest thou?
Abide! abide! longer the shadows grow;
What hopest thou the dark to thee will show?

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16. Of Gluttony and Feasting

© Sebastian Brant


He shows a fool in every wise
Who day and night forever hies
From feast to feat to fill his paunch

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To A Little Girl

© Edgar Albert Guest

Oh, little girl with eyes of brown

And smiles that fairly light the town,

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Dawn And Dark

© Norman Rowland Gale

GOD with His million cares 

  Went to the left or right, 

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Quatrains

© Thomas Bailey Aldrich

BLACK Tragedy lets slip her grim disguise
And shows you laughing lips and roguish eyes;
But when, unmasked, gay Comedy appears,
How wan her cheeks are, and what heavy tears!

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The Boat On The Serchio

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

Our boat is asleep on Serchio's stream,
Its sails are folded like thoughts in a dream,
The helm sways idly, hither and thither;
Dominic, the boatman, has brought the mast,
And the oars, and the sails; but ’tis sleeping fast,
Like a beast, unconscious of its tether.

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Venetian Epigrams

© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

With such a scroll, which himself richly with life has adorn'd.
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CLASP'D in my arms for ever eagerly hold I my mistress,

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The Looking-Glass. : on Mrs. Pulteney

© Alexander Pope

With scornful mien, and various toss of air,

Fantastic vain, and insolently fair,

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The Triumph of Dead : Chap. 1

© Mary Sidney Herbert

That gallant lady, gloriously bright,  

The stately pillar once of worthiness,  

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Mother And Son

© William Morris

Now sleeps the land of houses,

and dead night holds the street,

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Beauty. Part III.

© Henry James Pye

  'Tis in the mind that Beauty stands confess'd,
  In all the noblest pride of glory dress'd,
  Where virtue's rules the conscious bosom arm,
  There to our eyes she spreads her brightest charm:
  There all her rays, with force collected, shine,
  Proclaim her worth, and speak her race divine. 

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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 03

© Conrad Aiken

The warm sun dreams in the dust, the warm sun falls

On bright red roofs and walls;

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Old Aunt Mary's

© James Whitcomb Riley

Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine,
In those old days of the lost sunshine
Of youth-- when the Saturday's chores were through,
And the "Sunday's wood" in the kitchen too,
And we went visiting, "me and you,"
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

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The Towers of Time

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

(There is never a crack in the ivory tower
Or a hinge to groan in the house of gold
Or a leaf of the rose in the wind to wither
And she grows young as the world grows old.
A Woman clothed with the sun returning
to clothe the sun when the sun is cold.)