The Traveller; or, A Prospect of Society (Oliver Goldsmith Poems)
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slowOr by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,OR onward, where the rude Corinthian boorAgainst the houseless stranger ...
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slowOr by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,OR onward, where the rude Corinthian boorAgainst the houseless stranger ...
Now early shepheards ore ye meadow pass,And print long foot-steps in the glittering grass;The Cows unfeeding near the cottage stand,By ...
Doe we not hold him mad, that in his handdare gripe an Adder, though he crush it dead?or seemes it ...
THE Jester shook his hood and bells, and leaped upon a chair,The pages laughed, the women screamed, and tossed their ...
When summer in the mountains gains its peak,When gaily blooming flowers begin to fade,When nomads from the sunshine refuge seekBeside ...
I. I see them still, when poring o'er Old volumes of romantic lore, Ride forth to hawk in days of yore, By woods and ...
Howe'er, 'tis well that, while mankindThrough fate's perverse meander errs,He can imagined pleasures findTo combat against real cares.Fancies and notions ...
Wet, cheerless was our bivouac last eve, but still we spokeOf fighting and of winning, to-morrow, when day broke:That day ...
The fierce musical cries of a couple of sparrowhawks huntingon the headland,Hovering and darting, their heads northwestward,Prick like silver arrows ...
I left my warm meal and the handling of many disputes.Wearing nothing more than a pagne for the dewy mornings,I ...
The falcons break their dandiesAnd leave the printed lazurite,And up from indumentum glancesThe silver saker of dearth.The canellas burn their ...
NOW Winter pours his terrors o'er the plain,And icy barriers close the wild domain,From the fierce North the sweeping blast ...
THE SAMPO LOST IN THE SEA.Louhi, hostess of Pohyola,Called her many tribes together,Gave the archers bows and arrows,Gave her brave ...
Forth from the city in our cars we drove, Until we halted at the pasture ground. The general came, ...
Who dares to say your sheep are few? The flocks are all three hundred strong. Who dares despise your ...
My mother would be a falconress, And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist, would fly to bring back from ...
I flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying. I said, "Wait on, wait on, while I ride ...
Swift as a spirit hastening to his task Of glory & of good, the Sun sprang forth Rejoicing in his ...
Thus piteously Love closed what he begat: The union of this ever-diverse pair! These two were rapid falcons in a ...
Thus piteously Love closed what he begat: The union of this ever-diverse pair! These two were rapid falcons in a ...
Moored to the same ring: The hour, the darkness and I, Our compasses hooded like falcons. Now the memory of ...
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