After our Likeness. (Ada Cambridge Poems)
Before me now a little picture lies-A little shadow of a childish face,Childishly sweet, yet with the dawning graceOf thought ...
Before me now a little picture lies-A little shadow of a childish face,Childishly sweet, yet with the dawning graceOf thought ...
Poor, hapless souls! at whom we stand aghast,As at invading armies sweeping by -As strange to haggard face and desperate ...
Thy love I am. Thy wife I cannot be,To wear the yoke of servitude - to takeStrange, unknown fetters that ...
I.Fallen the lofty halls, where vassal crowds Drank in the dawn of Gertrude's natal day. The dungeon roof an ...
Speak kindly, wife; the little ones will grow Fairest and straightest in the warmest sun. We talk so often ...
How calm the spangled city spread below! How cool the night! How fair the starry skies! How sweet the dewy ...
Watchman, what of the night? See you a streak of light? Whither, O Captain of the quest, ...
It boots not to retrace the path To ages dim and hoar, When Man, at the domestic hearth, ...
Earth, outward tuning on her path in space This pensive southern face, Swathing its smile and shine In ...
Ah, 'twas but now I saw the sun flush pink on yonder placid tide; The purple hill-tops, one by one, ...
Why should we court the storms that rave and rend, Safe at our household hearth? Why, starved and naked, ...
Here, in her elbow chair, she sits A soul alert, alive, A poor old body shrunk and bent— ...
Before me now a little picture lies— A little shadow of a childish face, Childishly sweet, ...
Can this be my poem?—this poor fragment Of bald thought in meanest language dressed! Can this string of rhymes ...
Ye, that the untrod paths have braved, With heart and brain unbound; Who ask not that your souls be ...
When I kneel down the dawn is only breaking; Sleep fetters still the brown wings of the lark; The ...
The sun has set; grey shadows darken slowly The rose-red cloud-hills that were bathed in light O Lord, to ...
But they are at peace.Never to weary more, nor suffer sorrow,— Their strife all over, and their work all ...
As in the deeps of embryonic night, Out of unfathomable obscurities Of Nature's womb, the little life-germs rise, Pushing and ...
Bright eyes, sweet lips, with many fevers fill The young blood, running wildly, as it must; But lips and eyes ...
The filthy beast! And is he here again, With his foul slobbering mouth and shuffling feet, To taint the atmosphere ...
Each day another soldier in the van, Each day a new young worker in the fields, And every day more ...
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