Violetta (Edwin Arnold Poems)
Oh! was there ever tale of human loveWhich was not also tale of human tears?Died not sweet Desdemona? sorrowed notFair, ...
Oh! was there ever tale of human loveWhich was not also tale of human tears?Died not sweet Desdemona? sorrowed notFair, ...
FauconshaweTo fetch clear water out of the spring The little maid Margaret ran;From the stream to the castle's western ...
The Butterfly's Ball and the Grasshopper's Feasts Excited the spleen of the Birds and the Beasts: For their mirth ...
Francesca.Crush'd and throng'd are all the places In our amphitheatre,'Midst a sea of swarming faces I can yet distinguish her;Dost ...
(REFECTORY, MISSION SAN GABRIEL, 1869)Good!--said the Padre,--believe me still,"Don Giovanni," or what you will,The type's eternal! We knew him hereAs ...
AriaThe tiresome winter now is goneThe day so short, the night so longAt gentle paceDo change their face,Now must dark ...
"AT table yonder sits the man we seek, Beside the ingle, where the crimson flare Reveals him through the ...
Since Galatea came in, and Tuscanism gan usurp,Vanity above all: villainy next her, stateliness EmpressNo man but minion, stout, lout, ...
'TIS the laughter of pines that swing and swayWhere the breeze from the land meets the breeze from the bay;'Tis ...
CEASE to call him sad and sober, Merriest of months, October! Patron of the bursting bins, Reveler in wayside inns, ...
[I feel considerable hesitation in venturing to offer this version of a poem which Carlyle describes to be 'a beautiful ...
The Guest is gold and crimson -- An Opal guest and gray -- Of Ermine is his doublet -- His ...
THE PROLOGUE. This worthy limitour, this noble Frere, He made always a manner louring cheer* *countenance Upon the Sompnour; but ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon; And, if the sun looks through, 'tis with a face Beamless ...
WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet, Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket; The rose upon ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
I am weary of lying within the chase When the knights are meeting in market-place. Nay, go not thou to ...
Now warm with ministerial ire, Fierce sallied forth our loyal 'Squire, And on his striding steps attends His desperate clan ...
weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And ...
Lately our poets loiter'd in green lanes, Content to catch the ballads of the plains; I fancied I had strength ...
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