Car poems
/ page 598 of 738 /The Hymn Of The Wiltshire Laborers
© Charles Dickens
O God! who by Thy prophet's hand
Didst smite the rocky brake,
The Manor Farm
© Edward Thomas
THE rock-like mud unfroze a little, and rills
Ran and sparkled down each side of the road
Under the catkins wagging in the hedge.
But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun;
We Flash Across The Level
© William Ernest Henley
We flash across the level.
We thunder thro' the bridges.
We bicker down the cuttings.
We sway along the ridges.
A Cameo
© Madison Julius Cawein
Why speak of Giamschid rubies
Whence rosy starlight drips?
I know a richer crimson,--
The ruby of her lips.
On Himself
© John Donne
My fortune and my choice this custom break,
When we are speechless grown to make stones speak.
Italy : 8. The Brothers
© Samuel Rogers
In the same hour the breath of life receiving,
They came together and were beautiful;
But, as they slumbered in their mother's lap,
How mournful was their beauty! She would sit,
Sunthin' In The Pastoral Line
© James Russell Lowell
Now I wuz settin' where I'd ben, it seemed,
An' ain't sure yit whether I rally dreamed,
Nor, ef I did, how long I might ha' slep',
When I hearn some un stompin' up the step,
An' lookirz' round, ef two an' two make four,
I see a Pilgrim Father in the door.
North Country
© Kenneth Slessor
North Country, filled with gesturing wood,
With trees that fence, like archers' volleys,
The flanks of hidden valleys
Where nothing's left to hide
Five Bells
© Kenneth Slessor
Deep and dissolving verticals of light
Ferry the falls of moonshine down. Five bells
Coldly rung out in a machine's voice. Night and water
Pour to one rip of darkness, the Harbour floats
In the air, the Cross hangs upside-down in water.
Lament Of An Icarus
© Charles Baudelaire
Lovers of whores dont care,
happy, calm and replete:
But my arms are incomplete,
grasping the empty air.
Wallace Ferguson
© Edgar Lee Masters
There at Geneva where Mt. Blanc floated above
The wine-hued lake like a cloud, when a breeze was blown
Out of an empty sky of blue, and the roaring Rhone
Hurried under the bridge through chasms of rock;
Johnson' s Wonder
© Henry Lawson
ID been right round by overlands to see the world and life,
And on the boat at Plymouth I met Johnson and his wife;
He was a man who knew the world and wore the know-all smile
His wife a silly pussy catthe soft, obedient style.
His constant source of comfort was his life was all serene,
His ceaseless source of wonder was that men could be so green.
Silas Dement
© Edgar Lee Masters
It was moon-light, and the earth sparkled
With new-fallen frost.
It was midnight and not a soul abroad.
Out of the chimney of the court-house
Written For My Son In His Sickness, To One Of His School fellows.
© Mary Barber
I little thought that honest Dick
Would slight me so, when I was sick.
Is he a Friend, who only stays,
Whilst Health and Pleasure gild our Days;
Flies, when Disease our Temper sours,
Nor helps to pass the gloomy Hours?
A Late Walk
© Robert Frost
When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
Ippolit Konovaloff
© Edgar Lee Masters
I was a gun-smith in Odessa.
One night the police broke in the room
Where a group of us were reading Spencer.
And seized our books and arrested us.
Harry Carey Goodhue
© Edgar Lee Masters
You never marveled, dullards of Spoon River,
When Chase Henry voted against the saloons
To revenge himself for being shut off.
But none of you was keen enough
Joseph Dixon
© Edgar Lee Masters
Who carved this shattered harp on my stone?
I died to you, no doubt. But how many harps and pianos
Wired I and tightened and disentangled for you,
Making them sweet again -- with tuning fork or without?