On Victoria’s Jubilee (Ernest George Henty Poems)
Just fifty years ago, this land in slumber lay;The native chased the wild dingo, which roamed from day to dayO'er ...
Just fifty years ago, this land in slumber lay;The native chased the wild dingo, which roamed from day to dayO'er ...
Light's patterns freeze:Frost on our faces.Light's pollen siftsThrough the lids of our eyes…Light sinks and rustsIn water; is brokenBy glass… ...
Along the lamp-lit streets they glide and go:Here Nature in her brutishness is nude:See, thinly trickling from the age-old wound,The ...
Turn your head. Look. The light is turning yellow. The river seems enriched thereby, not to say deepened. Why this ...
The beach was crowded. Pausing now and then, He groped and fiddled doggedly along, His worn face glaring on the ...
I cannot spare water or wine, Tobacco-leaf, or poppy, or rose; From the earth-poles to the Line, All between that ...
Light's patterns freeze: Frost on our faces. Light's pollen sifts Through the lids of our eyes ... Light sinks and ...
ON a flat road runs the well-train'd runner; He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs; He is thinly clothed-he ...
So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he ...
Close on the margin of a brawling brook That bathes the low dell's bosom, stands a Cot; O'ershadow'd by broad ...
So am I as the rich whose blessèd key Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure, The which he ...
Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night Over the hill between the town below And the forsaken upland hermitage That ...
Gawaine, aware again of Lancelot In the King's garden, coughed and followed him; Whereat he turned and stood with folded ...
Two men came out of Shannon's, having known The faces of each other for so long As they had listened ...
(To Mrs. Henry Richards) Isaac and Archibald were two old men. I knew them, and I may have laughed at ...
I. Ah! wherefore by the Church-yard side, Poor little LORN ONE, dost thou stray? Thy wavy locks but thinly hide ...
'Twas in a little western town An ancient Maiden dwelt: Her name was MISS, or MISTRESS, Brown, Or DEBORAH, or ...
Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood; Blue with all ...
A pathetic tale of the sea I will unfold, Enough to make one's blood run cold; Concerning four fishermen cast ...
SIR OZANA. All day long and every day, From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunday, Within that Chapel-aisle I lay, And no man ...
I hear the halting footsteps of a lass In Negro Harlem when the night lets fall Its veil. I see ...
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