Car poems
/ page 531 of 738 /Sly Dick
© Thomas Chatterton
Sharp was the frost, the wind was high
And sparkling stars bedeckt the sky
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 4.
© William Cowper
Arion. Lo, from the field of air I too descend,
I who am called Arion,
The mighty ruler of this winged band,
At the command of hell.
Memories Of Tomorrow
© Edgar Albert Guest
These are the memories of tomorrow,
Smile of friend we meet today,
Erichthon
© André Marie de Chénier
Le Lapithe, hardi dans ses jeux turbulents,
Le premier, des coursiers osa presser les flancs.
Sous lui, dans un long cercle achevant leur carrière,
Ils surent aux liens livrer leur tête altière,
Blanchir un frein d'écume, et, légers, bondissants,
Agiter, mesurer leurs pas retentissants.
The Fourth Shepherd
© Joyce Kilmer
O Whiteness, whiter than the fleece
Of new-washed sheep on April sod!
O Breath of Life, O Prince of Peace,
O Lamb of God, O Lamb of God!
Delicatessen
© Joyce Kilmer
Why is that wanton gossip Fame
So dumb about this man's affairs?
Why do we titter at his name
Who come to buy his curious wares?
Songs of the Spring Days
© George MacDonald
A gentle wind, of western birth
On some far summer sea,
Wakes daisies in the wintry earth,
Wakes hopes in wintry me.
St. Alexis, Patron of Beggars
© Joyce Kilmer
We who beg for bread as we daily tread
Country lane and city street,
Let us kneel and pray on the broad highway
To the saint with the vagrant feet.
Dave Lilly
© Joyce Kilmer
There's a brook on the side of Greylock that used
to be full of trout,
But there's nothing there now but minnows; they say it is all fished
out.
Father Gerard Hopkins, S. J.
© Joyce Kilmer
Why didst thou carve thy speech laboriously,
And match and blend thy words with curious art?
For Song, one saith, is but a human heart
Speaking aloud, undisciplined and free.
Mid-ocean in War-time
© Joyce Kilmer
(For My Mother)The fragile splendour of the level sea,
The moon's serene and silver-veiled face,
Make of this vessel an enchanted place
Full of white mirth and golden sorcery.
Johnnie Armstrang
© Andrew Lang
Some speak of lords, some speak of lairds,
And sic like men of high degree;
Of a gentleman I sing a sang,
Some time call'd Laird of Gilnockie.
The Visitation
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Louise Imogen Guiney)There is a wall of flesh before the eyes
Of John, who yet perceives and hails his King.
It is Our Lady's painful bliss to bring
Before mankind the Glory of the skies.
The White Ships and the Red
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Alden March)With drooping sail and pennant
That never a wind may reach,
They float in sunless waters
Beside a sunless beach.
The Big Top
© Joyce Kilmer
The boom and blare of the big brass band is cheering
to my heart
And I like the smell of the trampled grass and elephants and hay.
I take off my hat to the acrobat with his delicate, strong art,
The Twelve-Forty-Five
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Edward J. Wheeler)Within the Jersey City shed
The engine coughs and shakes its head,
The smoke, a plume of red and white,
Waves madly in the face of night.
Georgia Dusk
© Jean Toomer
The sky, lazily disdaining to pursue
The setting sun, too indolent to hold
A lengthened tournament for flashing gold,
Passively darkens for night's barbeque,
The Proud Poet
© Joyce Kilmer
(For Shaemas O Sheel)One winter night a Devil came and sat upon my bed,
His eyes were full of laughter for his heart was full of crime.
"Why don't you take up fancy work, or embroidery?" he said,
"For a needle is as manly a tool as a pen that makes a rhyme!"