‘Twas June, Not I (Frances Fuller Victor Poems)
Come out into the garden, Maud; In whispered tones young Percy said: He but repeated what ...
Come out into the garden, Maud; In whispered tones young Percy said: He but repeated what ...
You say there's a Being all-loving, Whose nature is justice and pity; Could you say where you ...
Poet Oh, my soul! the draught is bitter Yet it must be sweetly drunken: Heart and ...
O, ye Athenians, drunken with self-praise, What dreams I had of you, beside the sea, In far ...
Dull, yellow, heavy, lustreless-- With less of radiance than the burnished tress, Crumpled on Beauty's forehead: cloddish, cold, ...
Nay, Hylas, I have come To where life's landscape takes a western slope, And breezes from the occidental ...
The river on the east Ripples its azure flood within my sight; And, darting from the ...
November came that day, And all the air was gray With delicate mists, blown down ...
Said one to me: "I seem to be-- Like a bird blown out to sea, In the hurricane's ...
O wild November wind, blow back to me The withered leaves, that drift adown the past; Waft ...
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