The First Leaf Of Spring (Charles Lamb Poems)
WRITTEN ON THE FIRST LEAF OF A LADY'S ALBUM.Thou fragile, filmy, gossamery thing,First leaf of spring!At every lightest breath that ...
WRITTEN ON THE FIRST LEAF OF A LADY'S ALBUM.Thou fragile, filmy, gossamery thing,First leaf of spring!At every lightest breath that ...
These things were yours, these little simple things; You touched them, used them one time, loved them well.Now you ...
I.Seen, too clear and historic within us, our sins of omissionFrown when the Autumn days ...
In the corner of the living room was an album of unbearable photos,many meters high and infinite minutes old,over which ...
At last you yielded up the album, which Once open, sent me distracted. All your ages Matt and glossy on ...
YES, write, if you want to, there's nothing like trying; Who knows what a treasure your casket may hold? I'll ...
Within the rock, the fortress of the Lord stillness, comfort all my parts restored my mind, my spirit lifted up ...
Grounded, centered quieting my spirit finding peace in stillness my heart, full, restored Resting in the arms the care of ...
From the Lord, my rock that place of strength, that reserve, on which I can trust Able, with him alone, ...
even when we are wet sitting in the boat the winds, the waves crashing Christ calling us to the water ...
I In my beginning is my end. In succession Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended, Are removed, destroyed, restored, ...
We knew their names or thought we did, we knew their faces from an album of places we'd played in ...
I wonder how it all got started, this business about seeing your life flash before your eyes while you drown, ...
So much rain, so much life like the swollen sky of this black August. My sister, the sun, broods in ...
There were still shards of an ancient pastoral in those shires of the island where the cattle drank their pools ...
MOORING POSTS 1 The mooring posts marked on the South Leeds map Of 1908 still line the Aire's side, huge, ...
Father, this year's jinx rides us apart where you followed our mother to her cold slumber; a second shock boiling ...
I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets. I empty my shoes and leave them beside ...
O Sacred Muse, my lyre excuse! - My verse is vagrant singing; Rhyme I invoke for simple folk Of penny-wise ...
The gathering family throws shadows around us, it is the late afternoon Of the family. There is still enough light ...
What means my name to you?...T'will die As does the melancholy murmur Of distant waves or, of a summer, The ...
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