At The Tomb Of Rameses (Patience Worth Poems)
Behold mould, that substance,Which is the blossom of time,That inheritance, that surety,Which all men become heir unto.Behold mould, a whit ...
Behold mould, that substance,Which is the blossom of time,That inheritance, that surety,Which all men become heir unto.Behold mould, a whit ...
My love is a necklet of pence.Each day I add a disc. If IBe spending mine hours for the worth ...
As you came out of church, all piouslyYour noble hands bestowed alms freely there,And in the darkened porch you shone ...
Oh, that my words become sylvan! Yea, shadowedA retreat from the glamour of the day.Make them stream of sunlight, but ...
The last day of April made her bed,As whole forests of cloud, capsizing, swayed in the West.With a moonbeam knife ...
1Created purely from glass the saint stands,Exposing his gifted quite empty handsLike a conjurer about to begin,A righteous man begging ...
The desert is magical shadow of dusk Filtering over red sandsAnd all is as still as a drifted pueblo Raised through the ...
Moonlight, filtering throughThe leafy boughs, descend!Paint white the shadows!Make silver the lines of darkness,Bringing forth the comforting shadesOf the familiar ...
I would that sorrow were notA common lot. I would that sheMight never fellow with all creation.I am jealous. To ...
WATCHING through the long, dim hours Like statued Mithras, stand ironic towers; Their haughty lines severe by light Are softened ...
Love to his singer held a glistening leaf,And said: "The rose-tree and the apple-treeHave fruits to vaunt or flowers to ...
The fat lady came out first, tearing out roots and moistening drumskins. The fat lady who turns dying octopuses inside ...
After Joseph Roth Parce que c'était lui; parce que c'était moi. Montaigne, De L'amitië The dream's forfeit was a night ...
The flats, tidal, far from shore, reeds, grasses, rushes morphing from green golden tan, brown the week before autumn officially ...
Driving in the fall 'morn, light filtering into the clearing wood; I spied a wall awakening from its slumber, no ...
Crisp hard brown sturdy oak leaves glistened in the small crisp pools after this morning's rain, late fall puddles harvest ...
I know a village in a far-off land Where from a sunny, mountain-girdled plain With tinted walls a space on ...
The child's wonder At the old moon Comes back nightly. She points her finger To the far silent yellow thing ...
Black lake, black boat, two black, cut-paper people. Where do the black trees go that drink here? Their shadows must ...
Somewhere, suspended in facetless space, the vine is spiralling, shown in the distance, with loosened hair: the farther the eye ...
The stars are filtering through a tree outside in the moon's silent era. Reality is moving layer over layer like ...
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