Mazeppa (Lord Byron Poem)
'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede - Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to ...
'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede - Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to ...
The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, ...
I. The morn when first it thunders in March, The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say: As ...
I. How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings come: And where, my soul, ...
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what's to ...
I Oh Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find! I can hardly misconceive you; it would prove me deaf ...
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny they are small, ...
Think of the storm roaming the sky uneasily like a dog looking for a place to sleep in, listen to ...
From Brooklyn, over the Brooklyn Bridge, on this fine morning, please come flying. In a cloud of fiery pale chemicals, ...
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good ...
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as ...
Gray, gray is Abbey Assaroe, by Belashanny town, It has neither door nor window, the walls are broken down; The ...
I heard the dogs howl in the moonlight night; I went to the window to see the sight; All the ...
Under Mirabeau Bridge runs the Seine And our loves Must I remember them Joy came always after pain Let arriving ...
I don't know somehow it seems sufficient to see and hear whatever coming and going is, losing the self to ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy ...
The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to ...
The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower; The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor Walk'd by the ...
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