Gentlmen-Rankers (Rudyard Kipling Poem)
To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned, To my brethren in their sorrow overseas, ...
To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned, To my brethren in their sorrow overseas, ...
When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold, Our father Adam sat under the ...
Runs falls rises stumbles on from darkness into darkness and the darkness thicketed with shapes of terror and the hunters ...
In time with him drawing closer God's power reviving giving us new vision As He did for Christ on the ...
A living seal marked on our flesh filling our lives with grace a holy stain on our skin by water ...
Unrighteous, unholy tribunal illegal trial, false witnesses - Love ridiculed, mocked as blasphemy The shadow of accusation, of cruel judgment ...
My name, inscribed, carved, branded onto the palms of our creator the God of the beginning of time my name ...
Matron! the children of whose love, Each to his grave, in youth have passed, And now the mould is heaped ...
1 Sometime now past in the Autumnal Tide, 2 When Ph{oe}bus wanted but one hour to bed, 3 The trees ...
WHEN Nature her great master-piece design'd, And fram'd her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all ...
Here, down between the dusty trees, At this lank edge of haggard wood, Women with labour-loosened knees, With gaunt backs ...
Hark where the bells toll, chiming, dull and steady, The clock's slow hand hath reached the appointed time. Well, be ...
'Twas up in a land long famed for gold, where women were far and rare, Tellus, the smith, had taken ...
Jerry MacMullen, the millionaire, Driving a red-meat bus out there -- How did he win his Croix de Guerre? Bless ...
I weep for Adonais -he is dead! O, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds ...
I weep for Adonais--he is dead! Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so ...
The man who cloaked his bitterness within This winding-sheet of puns and pleasantries, God never gave to look with common ...
Come all you little rouseabouts and climb upon my knee; To-day, you see, is Christmas Day, and so it's up ...
The bell is set a-ringing, and the engine gives a toot, There's five-and-thirty shearers here a-shearing for the loot, So ...
I said when they handed me my diploma, I said to myself I will be good And wise and brave ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
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