TO THE SURVIVORS (Henrik Ibsen Poem)
NOW they sing the hero loud; -- But they sing him in his shroud. Torch he kindled for his land; ...
NOW they sing the hero loud; -- But they sing him in his shroud. Torch he kindled for his land; ...
"GOOD Heavens, man, what a freak of taste! What blindness to form and feature! The girl's no beauty, and might ...
SEE, dear, what thy lover brings; 'Tis the flower with the white wings. Buoyed upon the quiet stream In the ...
THE last, late guest To the gate we followed; Goodbye -- and the rest The night-wind swallowed. House, garden, street, ...
WITH palette laden She sat, as I passed her, A dainty maiden Before an Old Master. What mountain-top is She ...
BEETLING rock, with roar and smoke Break before my hammer-stroke! Deeper I must thrust and lower Till I hear the ...
IN summer dusk the valley lies With far-flung shadow veil; A cloud-sea laps the precipice Before the evening gale: The ...
HER griefs were the hours When my struggle was sore,-- Her joys were the powers That the climber upbore. Her ...
NOW, rallying once if ne'er again, With flag at half-mast flown, A people in dire need and strain Mans Tyra's ...
TO skies that were brighter Turned he his prows; To gods that were lighter Made he his vows. The snow-land's ...
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