Car poems
/ page 88 of 738 /
The Art Of War. Book II.
© Henry James Pye
The season form'd to fan more pleasing fires,
Parent of blooming hopes and young desires,
When smiling Graces every flower combine,
The blooming wreaths of Love and Peace to twine,
Tempts only now to scenes of blood and death
The daring Warrior urg'd by Glory's breath.
The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XXI: Abel Keene
© George Crabbe
merchant's son,
Choice spirits all, who wish'd him to be one;
It must, no question, give them lively joy,
Hopes long indulged to combat and destroy;
At these they levelled all their skill and
A La Sante
© André Marie de Chénier
Allons, muse rustique, enfant de la nature,
Détache ces cheveux, ceins ton front de verdure,
This Mad Carnival Of Loving
© Heinrich Heine
This mad carnival of loving,
This wild orgy of the flesh,
Langue D'Oc
© Ezra Pound
When the springtime is sweet
And the birds repeat
Their new song in the leaves.
Tis meet
A man go where he will.
A Story Of Doom: Book I.
© Jean Ingelow
Niloiya said to Noah, "What aileth thee,
My master, unto whom is my desire,
The father of my sons?" He answered her,
"Mother of many children, I have heard
The Voice again." "Ah, me!" she saith, "ah, me!
What spake it?" and with that Niloiya sighed.
At Twilight
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
Was it so long? It seems so brief a while
Since this still hour between the day and dark
Was lightened by a little fellows smile;
Since we were wont to mark
Tray
© Robert Browning
Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst
Of soul, ye bards!
Quoth Bard the first:
"Sir Olaf, the good knight, did don
His helm, and eke his habergeon ..."
Sir Olaf and his bard----!
Untitled 1
© Owen Suffolk
I gladly would sing in a joyous strain,
But my heart of its joy is bereft;
On the Deaths of Thomas Carlyle and George Eliot: Sonnets
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
TWO SOULS diverse out of our human sight
Pass, followed one with love and each with wonder:
Lord Lundy, Who was too Freely Moved to Tears, and thereby ruined his Political Career
© Hilaire Belloc
Lord Lundy from his earliest years
Was far too freely moved to Tears.
Specimen Of An Induction To A Poem
© John Keats
Lo! I must tell a tale of chivalry;
For large white plumes are dancing in mine eye.
Not like the formal crest of latter days:
But bending in a thousand graceful ways;
Remembrance of Christmas Past
© Judith Viorst
We rose at dawn to three boys singing Rudolph.
We listened numbly to their shouts of glee.
The kitten threw up tinsel on the carpet.
The fire truck collided with the tree, requiring
To Lady Carteret
© Jonathan Swift
FROM India's burning clime I'm brought,
With cooling gales like zephyrs fraught.
Not Iris, when she paints the sky,
Can show more different hues than I;
The Fortune Seeker
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
HOLLYHOCKS slant in the wind,
Gallantly blowing,
