Ode On Truth, Addressed To George Dyer (Anne Batten Cristall Poems)
WHERE Fancy paints with Nature's simplest hues, And music's soul-entrancing concords join, There shall my numbers hail the modest Muse, ...
WHERE Fancy paints with Nature's simplest hues, And music's soul-entrancing concords join, There shall my numbers hail the modest Muse, ...
Sweet was the scene. The spreading dolichos Extended far, down to the valley's depths, With leaves luxuriant. The orioles Fluttered ...
I dreamed you were the sea; I dreamed you poundedWith foamy fists, the sad face of the shore. Waking, I ...
There wasn't room for sympathy, the epicentre moved too rapidly for that and even when we knew the anger of ...
On a sunny brae, alone I lay One summer afternoon; It was the marriage-time of May With her young lover, ...
Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov'd recollection Embitters the present, compar'd with the past; Where science first dawn'd on ...
WHEN chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet; As market days are wearing late, And folk begin ...
A Tale "Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke." -Gawin Douglas. When chapman billies leave the street, And ...
King Eochaid came at sundown to a wood Westward of Tara. Hurrying to his queen He had outridden his war-wasted ...
There were still shards of an ancient pastoral in those shires of the island where the cattle drank their pools ...
NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only; Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself; Not in those ...
Only a Leather Medal, hanging there on the wall, Dingy and frayed and faded, dusty and worn and old; Yet ...
THe merry Cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trompet shrill hath thrise already sounded: that warnes al louers wayt vpon their ...
There was movement at the station, for the word has passed around That the colt from old Regret had got ...
My gentle Harp, once more I waken The sweetness of thy slumbering strain; In tears our last farewell was taken, ...
All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven's wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, ...
Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine Following, above the Olympian hill ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind, Or where the ...
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the World, and ...
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, The ...
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