The Helot (Isabella Valancy Crawford Poems)
I.Low the sun beat on the land, Red on vine and plain and wood;With the wine-cup in his hand, Vast the Helot ...
I.Low the sun beat on the land, Red on vine and plain and wood;With the wine-cup in his hand, Vast the Helot ...
The great farm house of Malcolm Graem stoodSquare shoulder'd and peak roof'd upon a hill,With many windows looking everywhere;So that ...
The South Wind laid his moccasins aside,Broke his gay calumet of flow'rs, and castHis useless wampun, beaded with cool dews,Far ...
How spake the Oracle, my Curtius, how?Methought, while on the shadowed terracesI walked and looked toward Rome, an echo cameOf ...
Buy my roses, citizens,-- Here are roses golden white,Like the stars that lovers watch On a purple summer night.Here are roses ruddy ...
BOUCHE-MIGNONNE lived in the mill, Past the vineyards shady,Where the sun shone on a rill Jewelled like a lady.Proud the stream with ...
The red chief Gheezis, chief of the golden wampum, layAnd watched the west-wind blow adrift the clouds,With breath all flowery, ...
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