Lines Written on Oak Island, Killarney (John Wilson Poems)
Far in the heart of Island-solitudeOur tent was pitched, beneath a grove of oaks.A scene more solemn never hermit choseFor ...
Far in the heart of Island-solitudeOur tent was pitched, beneath a grove of oaks.A scene more solemn never hermit choseFor ...
WHY stand ye, nurslings of Earth, before my gates, Mouthing aloud my glory and my thrall?Are ye alone the playthings of ...
--"Throughout the day, I walk,My path o'ershadowed by vain dreams of him." --Italian Girl's Hymn to the Virgin.Mother, gazing on thy ...
CAN it be that the glory of manhood has passed,That its purpose, its passion, its might,Have all paled with the ...
The shadow of th' Almighty's cloud Calm on this tents of Israel lay,While drooping paused twelve banners proud, Till He arise and ...
At the drowsy dusk when the shadows creepFrom the golden west, where the sunbeams sleep,An angel mused: "Is there good or ...
Beneath the sunny autumn sky,With gold leaves dropping round,We sought, my little friend and I,The consecrated ground,Where, calm beneath the ...
When the Sabbath was declining, just at twilight'smystic hour,Left the "Upper Courts" an angel, sent to cull oursweetest flower,Not in ...
CLOUD, whither dost thou haste awaySo swiftly through the air?Dost thou to some far-distant landAn urgent message bear?With gloomy aspect, ...
SUNG BY THE CONGREGATION TO THE TUNE OFTALLIS'S EVENING HYMNO'ERSHADOWED by the walls that climb,Piled up in air by living ...
(The boiler house whistle is blown "wildcat" whena prisoner makes a "getaway") A man has fled. . . .! We clutch ...
A CHORUS OF HUMAN SPIRITS IN THE MIST.FAR in the shuddering spaces of the NorthWe live. We saw a ShapeOf ...
And is not love in vain, Torture enough without a living tomb? ...
In the deep hour of dreams,Through the dark woods, and past the moaning sea,And by the star-light gleams,Mother of sorrows! ...
Not here in the populous town,In the playhouse or mart,Not here in the ways gray and brown,Bnt afar on the ...
When first that horse, within whose populous wombThe birth was death, o'ershadowed Troy with fate,Her elders, dubious of its Grecian ...
The mountain lake, o'ershadowed by the hills, May still gaze heavenward on the evening star,Whose distant light its dark recesses ...
I dreamed last night, that I myself did layWithin the grave, and after stood and wept,My spirit sorrowed where its ...
Within my mind I keep a holy plot, Where such ideas as wear unsullied white May move through scenes of ...
A lily-girl, not made for this world's pain, With brown, soft hair close braided by her ears, And longing eyes ...
ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child. SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como. HELEN Come hither, my sweet Rosalind. 'T ...
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