The Voice Of Beauty Drowned (Robert Graves Poems)
'Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!'The other birds woke all around;Rising with toot and howl they stirredTheir plumage, broke ...
'Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!'The other birds woke all around;Rising with toot and howl they stirredTheir plumage, broke ...
Night is on the downland, on the lonely moorland,On the hills where the wind goes over sheep-bitten turf,Where the bent ...
I Brag, sweet tenor bull, descant on Rawthey's madrigal, each pebble its part for the fells' late spring. Dance tiptoe, ...
Hark for'ard, hark for'ard, hark for'ard, to hills where OctoberLingers awhile in his vesture resplendent yet sober,Where, salt with the ...
IN the hedgerow, in the hollow, between the brown hills,When all with dark and shadows the silent valley fills,'Tis there ...
Wake, little Waxy! Hunting-time again,The short days and goodly, the clean Autumn rain:In the old North country, in the grey ...
Warder of silence, keep Watch on the ways of sleep; Twilight, bringer of night, End the day with delight. Out ...
S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind, With a heavy heart and a wandering mind, Have known ...
I cried when the moon was mutmuring to the birds: 'Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will, I ...
When I played my penny whistle on the braes above Lochgyle The heather bloomed about us, and we heard the ...
Night is on the downland, on the lonely moorland, On the hills where the wind goes over sheep-bitten turf, Where ...
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