The Child-Mother (George MacDonald Poems)
Heavily slumbered noonday brightUpon the lone field, glory-dight,A burnished grassy sea:The child, in gorgeous golden hours,Through heaven-descended starry flowers,Went walking ...
Heavily slumbered noonday brightUpon the lone field, glory-dight,A burnished grassy sea:The child, in gorgeous golden hours,Through heaven-descended starry flowers,Went walking ...
'Er pore dear Par. she sez, "'e kept a store";An' then she weeps an' stares 'ard at the floor. "'Twas ...
VONCE oopon a dimes, goot vhile afder der var vas ofer, der Herr Breitmann vent oud Vest, drafellin' apout like ...
It was a little grave yard on the rolling foot hill plains:That was bleached by the sun in summer, swept ...
Aha! Beware! I know your guilty past! I was a witness of that secret crime.One word! and all your fondest ...
I KNEW it was comin', I'd watched fer a year Without sayin' a word to a soul excep' Ma Of ...
Within the wooded avenue I stood, And I was proud.I looked upon the scene and found it good; For here, ...
Once upon a time, in days remote,A politician bought a vote. The price he paid is not quite clear, But ...
The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked,And I was tarred and feathered,For publishing this on the day the ...
After a Print by George Cruikshank It was a gusty night, With the wind booming, and swooping, Looping round corners, ...
I met a lady from the South who said (You won't believe she said it, but she said it): "None ...
Here at the spoke-ends of our galaxy it is easy to forget the central axle moving insensibly slow, still the ...
Part I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering ...
A city clerk, but gently born and bred; His wife, an unknown artist's orphan child-- One babe was theirs, a ...
Lost in the swamp and welter of the pit, He flounders off the duck-boards; only he knows Each flash and ...
He's yonder, on the terrace of the Cafe de la Paix, The little wizened Spanish man, I see him every ...
This is the story the stockman told On the cattle-camp, when the stars were bright; The moon rose up like ...
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze; He turned away the good old horse that served him ...
To all in the village I seemed, no doubt, To go this way and that way, aimlessly. But here by ...
The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked, And I was tarred and feathered, For publishing this on the ...
A little colt - broncho, loaned to the farm To be broken in time without fury or harm, Yet black ...
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