The Spleen (Anne Kingsmill Finch Poem)
What art thou, SPLEEN, which ev'ry thing dost ape? Thou Proteus to abus'd Mankind, Who never yet thy real Cause ...
What art thou, SPLEEN, which ev'ry thing dost ape? Thou Proteus to abus'd Mankind, Who never yet thy real Cause ...
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, ...
The Sky is low -- the Clouds are mean. A Travelling Flake of Snow Across a Barn or through a ...
Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart, Which of itself complains, And mourns, with much and frequent smart, The evil it ...
"AND did you really walk," said I, "On such a wretched night? I always fancied Ghosts could fly - If ...
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh ...
This is a day of happiness, sweet peace, And heavenly sunshine; upon which conven'd In full assembly fair, once more ...
If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move ...
I. ENOUGH ! we're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were ...
Now plead my cause, Almighty God, With all the sons of strife; And fight against the men of blood, Who ...
Chloe, In verse by your command I write. Shortly you'll bid me ride astride, and fight: These talents better with ...
Flesh and spirit. Rom. 8:1 What vain desires and passions vain Attend this mortal clay! Oft have they pierced my ...
v.12-14 C. M. Love to enemies. Behold the love, the gen'rous love, That holy David shows; Hark, how his sounding ...
Love's twilight wanes in heaven above, On earth ere twilight reigns: Ere fear may feel the chill thereof, Love's twilight ...
He faints with hope and fear. It is the hour. Distant, across the thundering organ-swell, In sweet discord from the ...
Author Note: The story of the following ballad was related to me, when a school boy, as a fact which ...
Careful Observers may fortel the Hour (By sure Prognosticks) when to dread a Show'r: While Rain depends, the pensive Cat ...
The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth Unto her rested sense a perfect waking, While late bare earth, proud of ...
If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move ...
IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move ...
THOU art no more my bosom's FRIEND; Here must the sweet delusion end, That charm'd my senses many a year, ...
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