The Visit Of Mahmoud Ben Suleim To Paradise (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)
BENEATH the shadow of a breezeless palmMahmoud Ben Suleim, in the evening calm,Sat, with his gravely meditative eyesTurned on the ...
BENEATH the shadow of a breezeless palmMahmoud Ben Suleim, in the evening calm,Sat, with his gravely meditative eyesTurned on the ...
Kiss me, Miami, thou most constant one! I love thee more for that thou changest not. When Winter comes with frigid blast, Or ...
If it so befalls that the midnight hoversIn mist no moonlight breaks,The leagues of the years my spirit covers,And my ...
Two little children played among the flowers,Their mothers were of kin, tho' far apart;The children's ages were the very sameE'en ...
HOME of the Percy's high-born race,Home of their beautiful and brave,Alike their birth and burial place,Their cradle, and their grave!Still ...
Do thy chamber windows open east, Beloved, as did ours of old? And do you stand when ...
SHEPHERD Not the blue-fountained Florida hotel, Bell-capped, bellevued, straight-jacketed and decked With chromium palms and a fromage of moon, Not ...
Greyer and older, still they stand Wearier, quieter, still they pray;Men who had offered their all to a land. And ...
Crossing the stubble, where, erewhile,The golden-headed wheat had been,I saw, and knew him by his smile.Night, sad with rain, was ...
WE sat us down and wept,Where Babel's waters slept,And we thought of home and Zion as a long-gone, happy dream;We ...
Of old, on her terrace at evening - not here - in some long-gone kingdom oh, folded close to her ...
Of old, on her terrace at evening …not here…in some long-gone kingdom O, folded close to her breast!… —our gaze ...
Up attic, Lucas Harrison, God rest his frugal bones, once kept a tidy account by knifecut of some long-gone harvest. ...
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
standing in front of a mirror you recall it said: to hinge upon time is self-delusion tomorrows and days after, ...
I. My face resembles your face less and less each day. When I was young no one mistook whose child ...
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