Car poems

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On A Mischievous Bull, Which The Owner Him Sold At The Author's Instance

© William Cowper

Go--thou art all unfit to share

The pleasures of this place

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The Gentle Hint

© Edward Harrington

The old man sat upon his swag his eyes were red and bleared.
I doubt he’d had a wash for days or even combed his beard.
He cadged my pouch and filled his pipe and calmly blew a cloud
‘Some blokes ain’t got no pride’ he said, ‘but I was always proud.

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A Welcome To The Month Of Mary

© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Oh! gladly do we welcome thee,

  Fair pleasant month of May;

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A Dream

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

I dreamt a dream, a dazzling dream, of a green isle far away,

Where the glowing West to the ocean's breast calleth the dying day;

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Black Sampson Of Brandywine

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

"In the fight at Brandywine, Black Samson, a giant negro armed with
  a scythe, sweeps his way through the red ranks...." C. M. Skinner's
  "_Myths and Legends of Our Own Land_."

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A June Night

© Emma Lazarus

Ten o'clock: the broken moon
Hangs not yet a half hour high,
Yellow as a shield of brass,
In the dewy air of June,
Poised between the vaulted sky
And the ocean's liquid glass.

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Of The Nature Of Things: Book V - Part 01 - Proem

© Lucretius

O who can build with puissant breast a song

Worthy the majesty of these great finds?

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The Farewell of a Virginia Slave Mother

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage

Gone, gone, - sold and gone

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Finis

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

A MOMENT'S gleam, hint of sunnier weather,
Borne from the storm-clouds and the mists of fate;
Dawned, with a tender "Peradventure" hither,
A soft "Perchance it is not yet too late!"

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Ode to Captain Paery

© Thomas Hood

Paery, my man! has thy brave leg
Yet struck its foot against the peg
On which the world is spun?
Or hast thou found No Thoroughfare
Writ by the hand of Nature there
Where man has never run!

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The Shepheardes Calender: August

© Edmund Spenser

Cuddye.
Sicker sike a roundle neuer heard I none.
Little lacketh Perigot of the best.
And Willye is not greatly ouergone,
So weren his vndersongs well addrest.

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An English Ballad, On The Taking Of Namur, By The King Of Great Britain

© Matthew Prior

Dulce est desipere in loco.

Some Folks are drunk, yet do not know it:

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A Young Soldier On Service

© Confucius

To the top of that tree-clad hill I go,

  And towards my father I gaze,

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The Love Of The Game

© Edgar Albert Guest

There is too much of sighing, and weaving

  Of pitiful tales of despair.

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Fragments Of An Unfinished Poem

© James Russell Lowell

I am a man of forty, sirs, a native of East Haddam,

And have some reason to surmise that I descend from Adam;

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Rose Lorraine

© Henry Kendall

Sweet water-moons, blown into lights

Of flying gold on pool and creek,

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Piety: Or, The Vision

© Thomas Parnell

But still I fear, unwarm'd with holy flame,
I take for truth the flatt'ries of a dream;
And barely wish the wond'rous gift I boast,
And faintly practise what deserves it most.

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Fragment: "Igniculus Desiderii"

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

To thirst and find no fill—to wail and wander
With short unsteady steps—to pause and ponder--
To feel the blood run through the veins and tingle
Where busy thought and blind sensation mingle;

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The Abencerrage : Canto III.

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Onward their slow and stately course they bend
To where the Alhambra's ancient towers ascend,
Reared and adorned by Moorish kings of yore,
Whose lost descendants there shall dwell no more.

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The Lost Letter

© Henry Clay Work

Two lives wreck'd by a zephyr!
Two hearts crush'd by the fall,
When that most precious missive, that love laden letter,
Flutter'd down thro' the gap in the wall.