Love Sonnet XLII (Zora Bernice May Cross Poems)
My true mind makes as many loves of youAs my full heart contentedly can hold.And when the one grows dull, ...
My true mind makes as many loves of youAs my full heart contentedly can hold.And when the one grows dull, ...
While morning yet was young, within his hall Of justice Pharaoh sat: his princes, priests, Judges, and ministers, in costly ...
Scene I.A Garden on the banks of the Thames, at Fulham, behind the Wynnes' lodgings. Time, evening. Moon and starlight. ...
'Tis the summer prime, when the noiseless airIn perfumed chalice lies,And the bee goes by with a lazy hum,Beneath the ...
KNOW this : that through all time past Love hasbeenSo sweet that none could perish and not liveForthwith again.Ere Persia ...
Oh! was there ever tale of human loveWhich was not also tale of human tears?Died not sweet Desdemona? sorrowed notFair, ...
A pure sweet life, that came upon our earth,Stay'd for a space, and then went back to heaven.I know not ...
Like a flood river whirled at rocky banks,An army issues out of wilderness,With battle plucking round its ragged flanks;Obstruction in ...
I (_Before He Comes_) Sweet under swooning blue and mellow mist September waves of forest overflow The hills with crimson, ...
Beneath a lamp in Spring-street, on a recent calm spring night,I came unwittingly upon a most pathetic sight;A sorry spectacle ...
MISTER EDITOR: I'm craving of your space a slice, or shaving - (And it's very precious space, I've always found) ...
As the shifting sands of the desert Are born by the simoon's wrath,And in wanton and fleet confusion, Are strewn ...
A brown sad-coloured hillside, where the soil,Fresh from the frequent harrow, deep and fine,Lies bare; no break in the remote ...
Here I lie close to the grave Of Old Bill Piersol, Who grew rich trading with the indians, and who ...
I "O Time, whence comes the Mother's moody look amid her labours, As of one who all unwittingly has wounded ...
When wilt thou wake, O Mother, wake and see - As one who, held in trance, has laboured long By ...
Tales in the beginning didn't begin in the telling, they would have started no doubt, but not without a concrete ...
The mystery of a smile that glows within your eyes and is framed in an innocent countenance passes not unheeded. ...
If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears. Every cruelty which he ...
In Arthur's house whileome was I When happily the time went by In midmost glory of his days. He held ...
Here I lie close to the grave Of Old Bill Piersol, Who grew rich trading with the indians, and who ...
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