The Choice (Edith Nesbit Poems)
PLAGUE take the dull and dusty town, Its paved and sordid mazes, Now Spring has trimmed her pretty ...
PLAGUE take the dull and dusty town, Its paved and sordid mazes, Now Spring has trimmed her pretty ...
With joy all relics of the past I hail; The heath-bell, lingering in our cultured moor, Or the dull sound ...
Behold him now his genuine colours wear,That specious false-one, by whose cruel wilesI lost thy amity; saw thy dear smilesEclips'd; ...
Sprung from the arid rock devoid of soil,In vig'rous life I saw one blade of wheat,Bearing its precious grain, full-lobed ...
LIIII am already entered on the way Too far to live beyond thy presence now. Once, like a bird upon ...
1895 I the Neolithic Age savage warfare did I wage For food and fame and woolly horses' pelt. I was ...
Ah! What avails the classic bent And what the cultured word, Against the undoctored incident That actually occurred? And what ...
A Nation of trees, drab green and desolate grey In the field uniform of modern wars, Darkens her hills, those ...
When I die I don't care what happens to my body throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East ...
Lord Lilac thought it rather rotten That Shakespeare should be quite forgotten, And therefore got on a Committee With several ...
BUT two miles more, and then we rest ! Well, there is still an hour of day, And long the ...
I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my highland cave, Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or ...
The blast from Freedom's Northern hills, upon its Southern way, Bears greeting to Virginia from Massachusetts Bay: No word of ...
To the Memory of the Household It Describes This Poem is Dedicated by the Author "As the Spirit of Darkness ...
GIFT from the cold and silent Past! A relic to the present cast, Left on the ever-changing strand Of shifting ...
Now Night came down, and rose full soon That patroness of rogues, the Moon; Beneath whose kind protecting ray, Wolves, ...
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry To you, my aunt, who would explore The ...
We buried old Bob where the bloodwoods wave At the foot of the Eaglehawk; We fashioned a cross on the ...
1 The garden mould was damp and chill, 2 Winter had had his brutal will 3 Since over all the ...
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness, And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth, Stealing my breath of life, ...
Frowning, the owl in the oak complained him Sore, that the song of the robin restrained him Wrongly of slumber, ...
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