The Sale of Saint Thomas (Lascelles Abercrombie Poem)
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple ...
NO Spartan tube, no Attic shell, No lyre Æolian I awake; 'Tis liberty's bold note I swell, Thy harp, Columbia, ...
THOU whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deckt in silken stole, Grave these ...
THERE was once a day, but old Time wasythen young, That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line, From some ...
WHEN, by a generous Public's kind acclaim, That dearest meed is granted-honest fame; Waen here your favour is the actor's ...
AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; An inmate in the casual shed, On ...
THE WIND blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun's departing beam Look'd on the fading yellow woods, That ...
WITH secret throes I marked that earth, That cottage, witness of my birth; And near I saw, bold issuing forth ...
THE SUN had clos'd the winter day, The curless quat their roarin play, And hunger'd maukin taen her way, To ...
THERE was three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath ...
WHEN chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet; As market days are wearing late, And folk begin ...
There were three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, An' they hae sworn a solemn oath ...
FINTRY, my stay in wordly strife, Friend o' my muse, friend o' my life, Are ye as idle's I am? ...
A Tale "Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke." -Gawin Douglas. When chapman billies leave the street, And ...
I MURDER hate by flood or field, Tho' glory's name may screen us; In wars at home I'll spend my ...
She has laughed as softly as if she sighed, She has counted six, and over, Of a purse well filled, ...
O Rose! who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet; But pale, and hard, and ...
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 ...
they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in ...
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