The Smoke Traveller (Irving Browne Poems)
When I puff my cigarette,Straight I see a Spanish girl,-Mantilla, fan, coquettish curl,Languid airs and dimpled face,Calculating, fatal grace;Hear a ...
When I puff my cigarette,Straight I see a Spanish girl,-Mantilla, fan, coquettish curl,Languid airs and dimpled face,Calculating, fatal grace;Hear a ...
No song is mine of Arab steed-- My courser is of nobler blood,And cleaner limb and fleeter speed, And greater strength and ...
Had I at Mecca's gate been nourished, Or dwelt on Yemen's glowing sand, Or from my youth in Sinai flourished, A sword were ...
"How shall we honor the man who creates?"Asked the Bedouin chief, the poet Antar;-"Who unto the truth flings open our ...
"I have no power to change youor explain your waysNever believe a man can change a womanThose men are pretenderswho ...
This mutilated tree givesMe support, left in this pot-holeIt has the bitterness of a circusBefore or after the show.I watchThe ...
GAMARRA is a dainty steed,Strong, black, and of a noble breed,Full of fire, and full of bone,With all his line ...
"He shall sleep unscathed of thievesWho loves Allah and believes."Thus heard one who shared the tent,In the far-off Orient,Of the ...
(With apologies to a beautiful poem.) Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe decrease By cautious birth-control and die in peace) Mellow with learning ...
WHEN the gulls come in, and the shallow singsFresh to the wind, and the bell-buoy rings,And a spirit calls the ...
Like a gay skiff that flees the somber shoreAnd lilts again upon the crystal sea,Her wet breast stroking with caressing ...
'Or How the Brigadier Got the Order of the Nile and the Servian White Eagle'"I write that he who reads ...
Beneath the solemn stars that lightThe dread infinitudes of night,Mid wintry solitudes that lieWhere lonely Hecla's toweling pyreReddens an awful ...
The East Wind is a Bedouin, And Nimbus is his steed; Out of the dusk with ...
GAMARRA is a dainty steed, Strong, black, and of a noble breed, Full of fire, and full of bone, With ...
The camel at the old sakiyeh Toils around and round.Aweary is he of the Nile And of the wailing soundOf ...
Through the deserted dim brown city of my eyesThe white-necked camels pass, their tired drivers,Day after day, as though to ...
The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles. And over his head hovered worries as ...
You came to me as rain breaks on the desert when every flower springs to life at once, but joy ...
Hic. On the grey sand beside the shallow stream Under your old wind-beaten tower, where still A lamp burns on ...
(To Marcel Schwob in friendship and in admiration) In a dim corner of my room for longer than my fancy ...
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