Ode To The Setting Sun (Francis Thompson Poems)
Alpha and Omega, sadness and mirth, The springing music, and its wasting breath--The fairest things in life are Death and ...
Alpha and Omega, sadness and mirth, The springing music, and its wasting breath--The fairest things in life are Death and ...
In the Black Country, from a little window, Before I slept, across the haggard wastes Of dust and ...
Wreathe in a garland the corn's golden ear! With it, the Cyane blue intertwineRapture must render each glance bright and ...
O beautiful bright world! for ever young, And now with Wisdom grafted on thy Spring, Why do they slander thee ...
Hearken my chant, 'tisAs a Bacchante's,A grape-spurt, a vine-splash, a tossed tress, flown vaunt 'tis!Suffer my singing,Gipsy of Seasons, ere ...
TO APOLLON. Bright-haired Apollon! Thou that ever art A blessing to the world! whose generous heart Aye overflows with love ...
STROPHE IV Though Zeus plan all things right, Yet is his heart's desire full hard to trace; ...
TO ARTEMIS. I.Most graceful Goddess! whether now thy feet Pursue the dun deer to their deep retreat In the heart ...
In the great palace halls, where dwell the gods, I heard a voice filling the vaulted roof; The ...
"STREW the flowers at Love's behest Meet for such a lovely guest; Coronal the sapling weaves, Rainbows wrought by Spring ...
I.Or shall we run with ArtemisOr yield the breast to Aphrodite?Both are mighty;Both give bliss;Each can torture if divided;Each claims ...
Thrill with lissome lust of the light, O man ! My man ! Come careering out of the night Of ...
Thrill with lissome lust of the light, O man ! My man ! Come careering out of the night Of ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
This English Thames is holier far than Rome, Those harebells like a sudden flush of sea Breaking across the woodland, ...
(To Ellen Terry) As one who poring on a Grecian urn Scans the fair shapes some Attic hand hath made, ...
Wreathe in a garland the corn's golden ear! With it, the Cyane blue intertwine Rapture must render each glance ...
Unspeakable. The word that fills up the poem, that the head tries to excise. At 6 a.m., the wet lion. ...
Through thick Arcadian woods a hunter went, Following the beasts upon a fresh spring day; But since his horn-tipped bow ...
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