Death Of Archbishop Malachy (Archbishop William Alexander Poems)
Late, late, in the October afternoon,The monks sat listening spellbound in the choir;The voice went ringing on, a lovely tune,A ...
Late, late, in the October afternoon,The monks sat listening spellbound in the choir;The voice went ringing on, a lovely tune,A ...
1. DREAMSI was an ice baby.I turned to sky blue.My tears became two glass beads.My mouth stiffened into a dumb ...
A WAIL was heard around the bed, the death-bed of the young,Amidst her tears the Funeral Chant a mournful mother ...
You always read about it:the plumber with the twelve childrenwho wins the Irish Sweepstakes.From toilets to riches.That story.Or the nursemaid,some ...
In Eden every flower is blown. Amen.—His own epitaphA happy time in my young life—when dreams Ran in sweet thrills ...
Oh sharp diamond, my mother! I could not count the cost of all your faces, your moods- that present that ...
With joy all relics of the past I hail; The heath-bell, lingering in our cultured moor, Or the dull sound ...
Those born in obscure timesDo not remember their way.We, children of Russia's frightful yearsCannot forget a thing.Incinerating years!, do you ...
On a lonely selection far out in the West An old woman works all the day without rest, And she ...
Now it is time to say what you have to say. The room is quiet. The whirring fan has been ...
The heavy mahogany door with its wrought-iron screen Shuts. And the sound is rich, sympathetic, discreet. The sun still shines ...
Heretics all, whoever you may be, In Tarbes or Nimes, or over the sea, You never shall have good words ...
King Eochaid came at sundown to a wood Westward of Tara. Hurrying to his queen He had outridden his war-wasted ...
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere, First made and latest left of all the knights, Told, when the man ...
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere, First made and latest left of all the knights, Told, when the man ...
Over stone walls and barns, miles from the black-eyed Susans, over circus tents and moon rockets you are going, going. ...
You always read about it: the plumber with the twelve children who wins the Irish Sweepstakes. From toilets to riches. ...
Oh sharp diamond, my mother! I could not count the cost of all your faces, your moods-- that present that ...
1. DREAMS I was an ice baby. I turned to sky blue. My tears became two glass beads. My mouth ...
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those ...
She said: the pitying audience melt in tears, But Fate and Jove had stopp'd the Baron's ears. In vain Thalestris ...
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