The Angels Of Earth (James Avis Bartley Poems)
Angels of Earth! they soothe and bless The troubled soul of man,Bestow the most of happiness, They can.Angels of Earth--they are but ...
Angels of Earth! they soothe and bless The troubled soul of man,Bestow the most of happiness, They can.Angels of Earth--they are but ...
1862'T is midnight: through my troubled dreamLoud wails the tempest's cry;Before the gale, with tattered sail,A ship goes plunging by.What ...
Wondrous and awful are thy silent halls, O kingdom of the past!There lie the bygone ages in their palls, Guarded by shadows ...
"All day a strong sun has been drinkingThe ponds in the Wattletree Glen;And now as they're puddles, I'm thinkingWe were ...
AN idle poet, dreaming in the sun,One given to much unhallowed vagrancyOf thought and step; who, when he comes to ...
Sweet rural scene Of flocks and green! At careless ease my limbs are spread; All nature still, But yonder rill; ...
God's armies of Heaven, with pinions extended,Spread wide their white arms to the standard of Light;And bending far down to ...
I.We bore him through the golden land,One early harvest morn;The corn stood ripe on either hand—He knew all about the ...
Our life is one long childhood-and each toy Palls on our sick'ning fancy-all our joy Is but imperfect-something, something still ...
Eight days to beer! A sigh sweeps thro' the nation Sweeps like a gale from 'Frisco to New York.("Say! But ...
I The inkstand is full of ink, and the paper lies white and unspotted, in the round of light thrown ...
HOWEVER exquisite we BEAUTY find, It satiates sense, and palls upon the mind: Brown bread as well as white must ...
Upon Concluded Lives There's nothing cooler falls -- Than Life's sweet Calculations -- The mixing Bells and Palls -- Make ...
To say we've done it all before is not to bend the truth and though we've lost our youth the ...
"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
Mother of musings, Contemplation sage, Whose grotto stands upon the topmost rock Of Teneriffe; 'mid the tempestuous night, On which, ...
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun, Those crags in childhood that I used to climb? Hidden, hidden ...
Jill. Fred phoned. He can't make tonight. He said he'd call again, as soon as poss. I said (on your ...
The Sunday lamb cracks in its fat. The fat Sacrifices its opacity. . . . A window, holy gold. The ...
At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories