The Coming Day (Ernest Jones Poems)
THE midnight hour is passing-the sunrise is at handThe watchers on the mountain tops are looking o'er the land,The world ...
THE midnight hour is passing-the sunrise is at handThe watchers on the mountain tops are looking o'er the land,The world ...
It is a light, that the wind has extinguished.It is a pub on the heath, that a drunk departs in ...
OH, the shambling sea is a sexton old,And well his work is done.With an equal grave for lord and knave,He ...
WILLIE, fold your little hands; Let it drop, that "soldier" toy: Look where father's picture stands,-- Father, who here kissed ...
He has come the way of the fighting men, and fought by the rules of the ...
IT "S human for a womanTo enjoy a little cry;Though a man will grin and bear 'emAnd pass little troubles ...
You will forget me. The years are so tender,They bind up the wounds which we think are so deep,This dream ...
The Great soft downy snow storm like a cloak Descends to wrap the lean world head to feet; It gives ...
Here in this spring, stars float along the void;Here in this ornamental winterDown pelts the naked weather;This summer buries a ...
hate blows a bubble of despair intohugeness world system universe and bang-fear buries a tomorrow under woeand up comes yesterday ...
The gardener in his old brown hands Turns over the brown earth, As if he loves and understands The flowers ...
When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox, Landword in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, ...
In Autumn, as in Spring, the sap flows, the sap wishes to race against heartbeats before the winter, before the ...
I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally ...
Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told ...
I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
A pote is sure a goofy guy; He ain't got guts like you or I To tell the score; He ...
Away, melancholy, Away with it, let it go. Are not the trees green, The earth as green? Does not the ...
Dim vales- and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over! ...
Your lips are like a southern lily red, Wet with the soft rain-kisses of the night, In which the brown ...
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