Air (Ann Radcliffe Poems)
Now, at Moonlight's fairy hour, When faintly gleams each dewy steep,And vale and Mountain, lake and bow'r, In ...
Now, at Moonlight's fairy hour, When faintly gleams each dewy steep,And vale and Mountain, lake and bow'r, In ...
THE bow of promise, this lost flaring star, Terror and hope are in mid-heaven; but She, The mighty-wing'd crown'd Lady ...
Oh, the shadows they lie deep in the glen of Castlemaine, Purple as the gulfs of sleep, gray as are ...
Doubt no more that Oberon—Never doubt that PanLived, and played a reed, and ranAfter nymphs in a dark forest,In the ...
Picture some Isle smiling green 'mid the white-foaming ocean; -Full of old woods, leafy wisdoms, and frolicsome fays;Passions and pageants; ...
St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through ...
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some ...
Bother Bulleys, let us sing From the dawn till evening! - For we know not that we go not When ...
I see you, Maister Bawsy-brown, Through yonder lattice creepin'; You come for cream and to gar me dream, But you ...
A tale that the poet Rückert told To German children, in days of old; Disguised in a random, rollicking rhyme ...
"OH, when I was a little Ghost, A merry time had we! Each seated on his favourite post, We chumped ...
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough, Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough; The chanting linnet, or the ...
Low-anchored cloud, Newfoundland air, Fountain-head and source of rivers, Dew-cloth, dream-drapery, And napkin spread by fays; Drifting meadow of the ...
Part 1 WHAT dire Offence from am'rous Causes springs, What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things, I sing -- This ...
Not with more glories, in th' etherial plain, The sun first rises o'er the purpled main, Than, issuing forth, the ...
Doubt no more that Oberon- Never doubt that Pan Lived, and played a reed, and ran After nymphs in a ...
NO man should stand before the moon To make sweet song thereon, With dandified importance, His sense of humor gone. ...
(To Edgar Lee Masters, with great respect) HERE upon the prarie Is our ancestral hall. Agate is the dome, Cornelian ...
Once I loved a fairy, Queen Mab it was. Her voice Was like a little Fountain That bids the birds ...
The moon's a gong, hung in the wild, Whose song the fays hold dear. Of course you do not hear ...
"O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead! The Time needs heart -- 'tis tired of head: We're all for ...
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