“With the Strength of Dreams” (George Sterling Poems)
I saw the Lesbian Sappho bowed in light Before the sapphire altar of the sea- Song-swept, a lyre on which in threnodyTh' ...
I saw the Lesbian Sappho bowed in light Before the sapphire altar of the sea- Song-swept, a lyre on which in threnodyTh' ...
Thy face is whitened with remembered woe;For thou alone, pale satellite, didst see,Amid the shadows of Gethsemane,The mingled cup of ...
PERSONS REPRESENTED. Sir Pierce Thorne, a wealthy brewer. Mr. Murdock, a banker. Mostyn Wynne, the dispossessed heir of Wynhavod. Norman, ...
A pilgrim of the wilds to-day, I lie by Cameron's stone,And let my fancy roam and play, And take sweet ...
A Threnody for Robert Louis StevensonCOLD, the dull cold! What ails the sun,And takes the heart out of the day?What ...
You smile, and half in jest you askA song from me. A simple task,If he who sings had all the ...
THE Hours passed by, a fleet, confused crowd; With wafture of blown garments bright as fire, Light, light of foot ...
Galloping, galloping, galloping horses Weave thro' our dreaming in burgeoning Spring;There's sun in our hearts and there's sun on the ...
YES, stars were with me formerly. (I also knew the wind and sea; And hill-tops had my feet by heart. ...
_Earthquake._ I am a memory of cosmogony, That first great hour of travail when the voice Of ...
WHEN groping farms are lanterned upAnd stolchy ploughlands hid in grief,And glimmering byroads catch the dropThat weeps from sprawling twig ...
I stood one summer, friend, besideThe foam waves of a distant seaThat muttered all the summer throughA low sweet threnody.A ...
Dolefully and drearily Come I with the spring;Wearily and cerily My threnody I sing.Hear my drear, discordant note Sobbing, sobbing ...
A blackbird singing On a moss-upholstered stone, Bluebells swinging, Shadows wildly blown, A song in the wood, A ship on ...
(i) i believed in flower-power (the triumph of the meek) the thought that what a wind could bend was not ...
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
Set in this stormy Northern sea, Queen of these restless fields of tide, England! what shall men say of thee, ...
This English Thames is holier far than Rome, Those harebells like a sudden flush of sea Breaking across the woodland, ...
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
When the dark comes down, oh, the wind is on the sea With lisping laugh and whimper to the red ...
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