The Autumn (Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems)
Go, sit upon the lofty hill, And turn your eyes around, Where waving woods and waters wild Do hymn an ...
Go, sit upon the lofty hill, And turn your eyes around, Where waving woods and waters wild Do hymn an ...
I thought once how Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years, Who each one in ...
I. I stand on the mark beside the shore Of the first white pilgrim's bended knee, Where exile turned to ...
The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to ...
Thou fair hair'd angel of the evening, Now, while the sun rests on the mountains light, Thy bright torch of ...
He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove, Tell me Fair One, tell me Love; Where thou thy charming nest dost ...
The Argument. Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air; Hungry clouds swag on the deep Once meek, ...
Love and harmony combine, And round our souls entwine While thy branches mix with mine, And our roots together join. ...
Can I see anothers woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see anothers grief, And not seek for ...
Earth raised up her head. From the darkness dread & drear, Her light fled: Stony dread! And her locks cover'd ...
My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white. White as ...
One wants a teller in a time like this One's not a man, one's not a woman grown To bear ...
To be in love Is to touch with a lighter hand. In yourself you stretch, you are well. You look ...
the final curtain on one of the longest running musicals ever, some people claim to have seen it over one ...
these things that we support most well have nothing to do with up, and we do with them out of ...
she was hot, she was so hot I didn't want anybody else to have her, and if I didn't get ...
Rose-maiden, no, I do not quarrel With these dear chains, they don't demean. The nightingale embushed in laurel, The sylvan ...
With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does ...
It's the hand we clasp with an honest grasp That gives a hearty thrill; It's the good we pour into ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories