Car poems
/ page 7 of 738 /Influence of Natural Objects in Calling Forth and Strengthening the Imagination in Boyhood and Early Youth
© William Wordsworth
Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought!And giv'st to forms and images a breathAnd everlasting motion! not in vain,By day or star-light, thus from my first dawnOf childhood didst thou intertwine for meThe passions that build up our human soul;Not with the mean and vulgar works of Man;But with high objects, with enduring things,With life and nature; purifying thusThe elements of feeling and of thought,And sanctifying by such disciplineBoth pain and fear,--until we recogniseA grandeur in the beatings of the heart
The Burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna
© Charles Wolfe
Not a drum was heard, nor a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried;Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
The Lady in the White Dress, Whom I Helped Into the Omnibus
© Willis Nathaniel Parker
I know her not! Her hand has been in mine,And the warm pressure of her taper armHas thrill'd upon my fingers, and the hemOf her white dress has lain upon my feet,Till my hush'd pulse, by the caressing folds,Was kindled to a fever! I, to her,Am but the undistinguishable leafBlown by upon the breeze -- yet I have sat,And in the blue depths of her stainless eyes,(Close as a lover in his hour of bliss,And steadfastly as look the twin stars downInto unfathomable wells,) have gazed!And I have felt from out its gate of pearlHer warm breath on my cheek, and while she satDreaming away the moments, I have triedTo count the long dark lashes in the fringeOf her bewildering eyes! The kerchief sweetThat enviably visits her red lipHas slumber'd, while she held it, on my knee, --And her small foot has crept between mine own --And yet, she knows me not! Now, thanks to heavenFor blessings chainless in the rich man's keeping --Wealth that the miser cannot hide away!Buy, if they will, the invaluable flower --They cannot store its fragrance from the breeze!Wear, if they will, the costliest gem of Ind --It pours its light on every passing eye!And he who on this beauty sets his name --Who dreams, perhaps, that for his use aloneSuch loveliness was first of angels born --Tell him, oh whisperer at his dreaming ear,That I too, in her beauty, sun my eye,And, unrebuked, may worship her in song --Tell him that heaven, along our darkling way,Hath set bright lamps with loveliness alight --And all may in their guiding beams rejoice;But he -- as 'twere a watcher by a lamp --Guards but this bright one's shining
Not saying
© Williams Ian
Fists in our sleeves, we reach our limit. No waypast Lake Ontario, nothing else to dountil you say the thing you need to say.
Solitude
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone;For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own
Will and Testament
© Isabella Whitney
The Aucthour (though loth to leave the Citie)vpon her Friendes procurement, is constrainedto departe: wherfore (she fayneth as she would die)and maketh her WYLL and Testæment, as foloweth:With large Legacies of such Goods and richeswhich she moste aboundantly hath left behind her:and therof maketh LONDON sole executor to seher Legacies performed
To her Sister Mistress A. B.
© Isabella Whitney
Because I to my brethern wrote and to my sisters two:Good sister Anne, you this might wote, if so I should not doTo you, or ere I parted hence,You vainly had bestowed expence.
The Admonition by the Author to all Young Gentlewomen: And to all other Maids being in Love
© Isabella Whitney
Ye Virgins, ye from Cupid's tents do bear away the foil,Whose hearts as yet with raging love most painfully do boil.
America
© Whitfield James Monroe
America , it is to thee,Thou boasted land of liberty, --It is to thee I raise my song,Thou land of blood, and crime, and wrong
The Planting of the Apple-Tree
© William Cullen Bryant
COME let us plant the apple-tree.
Cleave the tough greensward with the spade;
At the Window
© Ethelwyn Wetherald
How thick about the window of my life Buzz insect-like the tribe of petty frets:Small cares, small thoughts, small trials, and small strife, Small loves and hates, small hopes and small regrets.
Man Frail and God Eternal
© Isaac Watts
Our God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come,Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home.
Who Is It?
© Albert Durrant Watson
If he has to, he will not, He will if he mustn't;He does if he shouldn't And should if he doesn't.
The Sparrow
© Albert Durrant Watson
A little meal of frozen cake, A little drink of snow,And when the sun is setting, A broad-eaved bungalow.
Working Class
© Warr Bertram
We have heard no nightingales singingin cool, dim lane, where eveningcomes like a procession through the aisles at passion-tide,filling the church with quiet prayer dressed in white
Albion's England
© William Warner
The Brutons thus departed hence, seven kingdoms here begun,--Where diversely in divers broils the Saxons lost and won,--King Edel and king Adelbright in Diria jointly reign;In loyal concord during life these kingly friends remain