Sonnet XXXI: “‘And miss the way to heaven!’ My closing word” (George Henry Boker Poems)
XXXI"And miss the way to heaven!" My closing word Is a reproachful echo in my ear; And filled with trouble ...
XXXI"And miss the way to heaven!" My closing word Is a reproachful echo in my ear; And filled with trouble ...
One with his fervor shall informThe world, and one with all his sorrow:One sees a glad, unsetting morrow,One hears the ...
IFair Lucille, my love is warmAs the honey-bees that swarmIn the June-time, happy time,In the June-time, summer's prime;Oh, my love ...
Ilusion, tentacion, peligro, y duelo Garin padece en la fingida casa, De donde sale con favor del cielo Todo encendido ...
When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farm Across green fields and yellow hills of hay The little twittering ...
As I left the Halls at Lumley, rose the vision of a comely Maid last season worshipped dumbly, watched with ...
The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves Her unintending Eyes -- Took her own Heart, including ours, By innocent Surprise ...
'Tis not the swaying frame we miss, It is the steadfast Heart, That had it beat a thousand years, With ...
Phoebus make haste, the day's too long, be gone, The silent night's the fittest time for moan; But stay this ...
I love your lips when they're wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when ...
1 PROUD music of the storm! Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies! Strong hum of forest tree-tops! ...
There is a power whose inspiration fills Nature's fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought, Like airy dew ere any drop distils, ...
Something spreading underground won't speak to us under skin won't declare itself not all life-forms want dialogue with the machine-gods ...
Fear, like a living fire that only death Might one day cool, had now in Avon's eyes Been witness for ...
Well, Bokardo, here we are; Make yourself at home. Look around-you haven't far To look-and why be dumb? Not the ...
PART I O! nothing earthly save the ray (Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye, As in those gardens where ...
How often we forget all time, when lone Admiring Nature's universal throne; Her woods- her wilds- her mountains- the intense ...
In Heaven a spirit doth dwell "Whose heart-strings are a lute"; None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, ...
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, ...
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