Elizabeth At Tilbury (Francis Turner Palgrave Poems)
September: 1588 Let them come, come never so proudly, O'er the green waves as giants ride; Silver clarions ...
September: 1588 Let them come, come never so proudly, O'er the green waves as giants ride; Silver clarions ...
On the far hill the cloud of thunder grew And sunlight blurred below; but sultry blue ...
You — you — Your shadow is sunlight on a plate of silver; Your footsteps, the seeding-place of lilies; Your ...
My garden has a lawn —Green and withdrawn,Shaded by treesWherein the breezeAnd — need I add? — the beesMake soothing ...
The spring-it had simply been you,And so, to a certain extent,The summer; but autumn-this scandalous blueOf wallpaper? Rubbish and felt?They ...
Gnats and an ant have gnawed your nimble bones-You who could spring and sprawl on your own thread Down half ...
I will not go to tea with you, Mrs Arden,Yourself, your house, your tea,These threeAre all acceptable to me;But oh!Too ...
IF any sense in mortal dust remains When mine has been refin'd from flower to flower, Won from the sun ...
Exchange in greed the ungraceful signs. Thrust The thick notes between green apple breasts. Then the shadow of the devil ...
Thou born to sip the lake or spring, Or quaff the waters of the stream, Why hither come on vagrant ...
Old Davis owned a solid mica mountain In Dalton that would someday make his fortune. There'd been some Boston people ...
We used to picnic where the thrift Grew deep and tufted to the edge; We saw the yellow foam flakes ...
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps' nest. (Matsuo Basho)
A MIDDLE-AGE INTERLUDE. ROSA MUNDI; SEU, FULCITE ME FLORIBUS. A CONCEIT OF MASTER GYSBRECHT, CANON-REGULAR OF SAID JODOCUS-BY-THE-BAR, YPRES CITY. ...
ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON IN ROME. [``Now was come about Holy-Cross Day, ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
Per me si va ne la citt? dolente, per me si va ne l'etterno dolore, per me si va tra ...
It's all in the sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should be a song-made of particulars, wasps, a gentian-something ...
"You speak to me of narcissism but I reply that it is a matter of my life" - Artaud "At ...
Remember midsummer: the fragrance of box, of white roses And of phlox. And upon a honeysuckle branch Three snails hanging ...
Sisters - Heaviness and Tenderness- you look the same. Wasps and bees both suck the heavy rose. Man dies, and ...
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