Tasso Dying (Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov Poems)
What festival is ancient Rome preparing? Where flow the crowds in noisy waves?Why these aromas, myrrh's sweet smoke And censers all around ...
What festival is ancient Rome preparing? Where flow the crowds in noisy waves?Why these aromas, myrrh's sweet smoke And censers all around ...
(Odysseus before the House of Paris.)OD. About this wicked house ten yearsThe strife 'twixt Troy and Greece has surgedSince rifling Paris, ...
How blessed's the good-natured poet,With little bile and much emotion:All lovers of the gentle artsSend him sincerest greetings;The admiration of ...
I said to Love,'It is not now as in old daysWhen men adored thee and thy ways All else above;Named thee ...
Alone I list In the leafy tryst; Silent the woodlands in their starry sleep- Silent the phantom wood in ...
What doesn't enter then my slumbering mind?-DerzhavinIOctober has arrived - the woods have tossedTheir final leaves from naked branches;A breath ...
He found her where white daisies blewAgainst the wood in drift of spray,And glimpses of the sky upthrewBlood from the ...
DO not crave sure ease - to quaffClear crystal cups abrim with wine,When lips are fain to mock and laughAnd ...
Say, O wander-lover, say,What is May in Umbria?Days that never dim nor darkle;Nights that spangle, nights that sparkle;Dawns that flame ...
He'd been for years in Sydney "a-acting of the goat", His name was Joseph Swallow, "the Great Australian Pote", In ...
I said to Love, "It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All ...
He was leaning by a face, He was looking into eyes, And he knew a trysting-place, And he heard seductive ...
I said to Love, "It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All ...
"But it isn't playing the game," he said, And he slammed his books away; "The Latin and Greek I've got ...
I'm sitting by the fire tonight, The cat purrs on the rug; The room's abrim with rosy light, Suavely soft ...
Oh ye whose hearts are resonant, and ring to War's romance, Hear ye the story of a boy, a peasant ...
My boy's come back; he's here at last; He came home on a special train. My longing and my ache ...
"How good God is to me," he said; "For have I not a mansion tall, With trees and lawns of ...
It's mighty lonesome-like and drear. Above the Wild the moon rides high, And shows up sharp and needle-clear The emptiness ...
If Mary had known When she held her Babe's hands in her own Little hands that were tender and white ...
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