Behold How He Loved Him! (Charlotte Eliza Dixon Poems)
A SHEPHERD from a mountain's steepBeheld a little wand'ring sheep;With anxious eye he watch'd it long,Creeping the briars and thorns ...
A SHEPHERD from a mountain's steepBeheld a little wand'ring sheep;With anxious eye he watch'd it long,Creeping the briars and thorns ...
We meet in peace, though from our native EastThe sun that sparkles on our birthday feastGlanced as he rose on ...
1712 We count him wise,Timoleon, who in Syracuse laid down That gleaming bait of all men's eyes,And ...
We stood among the boats and nets . . . We marked the risen moon Walk swaying o'er the trembling ...
Trapped amid the woods with guileThey've led her bound in fetters vileTo death, a deadlier sorceressThan any born for earth's ...
There is peace in the swamp where the Copperhead sleeps,Where the waters are stagnant, the white vapor creeps,Where the musk ...
Sons of Freedom, rise once more'Gainst a foe upon our shore,Deadlier than all foes of yore; Down with Slavery!Slavery's hounds ...
By our place in the midst of the furthest seas we were fated to stand alone - When the nations ...
1911 When the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride, He shouts to scare the monster, who will often ...
In my childhood rumors ran Of a world beyond our door- Terrors to the life of man That the highroad ...
To-night I tread the unsubstantial way That looms before me, as the thundering night Falls on the ocean: I must ...
To-night I tread the unsubstantial way That looms before me, as the thundering night Falls on the ocean: I must ...
A green and silent spot, amid the hills, A small and silent dell ! O'er stiller place No singing sky-lark ...
"As certain also of your own poets have said"-- (Acts 17.28) Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles, Lily on ...
I heard an angel speak last night, And he said 'Write! Write a Nation's curse for me, And send it ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
Nay, let us walk from fire unto fire, From passionate pain to deadlier delight, - I am too young to ...
I Partly to think, more to be left alone, George Annandale said something to his friends- A word or two, ...
Deep in th' abyss where frantic horror bides, In thickest mists of vapours fell, Where wily Serpents hissing glare And ...
As one who in his journey bates at noon, Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused Betwixt the ...
The Year's twelve daughters had in turn gone by, Of measured pace tho' varying mien all twelve, Some froward, some ...
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