The Bridge Across the Crick (C J Dennis Poems)
Joseph Jones and Peter Dawking Strove in an election fight; And you'd think, to hear them talking, ...
Joseph Jones and Peter Dawking Strove in an election fight; And you'd think, to hear them talking, ...
It floats about, that boat of cypress wood, Now here, now there, as by the current borne. Nor rest ...
Come I from busy haunts of men, With nature to commune, Which you, it seems, observe, and then Laugh out, ...
There are not many sins when once we sift them.In actions of evolving human soulsStriving to reach high goalsAnd falling ...
When the Laborites and Liberals are bickering, Are a-calling and a-bawling in the House,And the strangers in the gallery are ...
She comes not with the conscious grace Of gentle, winsome womanhood, Nor yet, withal, the flaunting face ...
LEADER no more, be judged of us! Hailed Chief, and loved, of yore -- Youth, and the faith of youth, ...
I stood in the flag-decked cheering crowdWhere all but I were gay,And gazing on their extesy,My heart shrank in dismay. ...
GLAD to be back home again,Where abide the friendly men;Glad to see the same old scenesAnd the little house that ...
Our thoughts are molding unmade spheres,And, like a blessing or a curse,They thunder down the formless years,And ring throughout the ...
O you chorus of indolent reviewers,Irresponsible, indolent reviewers,Look, I come to the test, a tiny poemAll composed in a metre ...
Now, with the wars of the world begun, they'll listen to you and me, Now while the frightened nations run ...
If the Led Striker call it a strike, Or the papers call it a war, They know not much what ...
The blatant horns blare strident sound; Delighted, you laugh and seize My passive arm, but I have found Content in ...
O you chorus of indolent reviewers, Irresponsible, indolent reviewers, Look, I come to the test, a tiny poem All composed ...
at lunch time blatant curses and veiled conceits devoured the four of us (Sukasah Syahdan)
Blats booted to blatant dubbing the avenue dire with rubbings of Sveinn Forkbeard leading a black squall of Harleys with ...
I LOOK on the specious electrical light Blatant, mechanical, crawling and white, Wickedly red or malignantly green Like the beads ...
Who now will praise the Wizard in the street With loyal songs, with humors grave and ...
Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of ...
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