The Two Children Pt 1 (Emily Jane Bronte Poems)
Heavy hangs the rain-dropFrom the burdened spray;Heavy broods the damp mistOn uplands far away.Heavy looms the dull sky,Heavy rolls the ...
Heavy hangs the rain-dropFrom the burdened spray;Heavy broods the damp mistOn uplands far away.Heavy looms the dull sky,Heavy rolls the ...
OUR boat has drifted with the stream That stirs the river's full sweet bosom And now she stays ...
BROUGHT FROM SWITZERLAND. Flower of the mountain! by the wanderer's hand Robbed of thy beauty's short-lived sunny day; ...
Just as the hay-fields on the cliff-top draw Seafarers---yea, two miles away from land! Bringing sweet thoughts of many a ...
Far in Memory's land I roamed to-day,Through fields that into silence stretched away; And lingered where, beneath a sky of ...
They are rhymes rudely strung with intent less Of sound than of words, In lands where bright blossoms are scentless, ...
I Alphonso live and learn, Seeing nature go astern. Things deteriorate in kind, Lemons run to leaves and rind, Meagre ...
With delicate, mad hands, behind his sordid bars, Surely he hath his posies, which they tear and twine; Those scentless ...
'O WHICH is the last rose?' A blossom of no name. At midnight the snow came; At daybreak a vast ...
'A letter from my love to-day! Oh, unexpected, dear appeal!' She struck a happy tear away, And broke the crimson ...
They haven't got no noses, The fallen sons of Eve; Even the smell of roses Is not what they supposes; ...
In fear of the rich mouth I kissed the thin,-- Even that was a trap To snare me in. Even ...
Ah, love, within the shadow of the wood The laurels are cut down; some other brows May bear the classic ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
(To Sarah Bernhardt) How vain and dull this common world must seem To such a One as thou, who should'st ...
IN a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland, At the sea-down's edge between windward and lee, Walled round ...
I Because the night was falling warm and still Upon a golden day at April's end, I thought; I will ...
'Tis strange that in a land so strong So strong and bold in mighty youth, We have no poet's voice ...
Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone: No flower of ...
The last of last words spoken is, Good-bye - The last dismantled flower in the weed-grown hedge, The last thin ...
So, Calchas, on the sacred Palatine, You thought of Mopsus, and o'er wastes of sea A flower brought your message. ...
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