On the Prospect of Peace (Thomas Tickell Poems)
______ SacerdosFronde super mitram, & felici comptus oliva.Virg.To the Lord Privy SealContending kings, and fields of death, too longHave been ...
______ SacerdosFronde super mitram, & felici comptus oliva.Virg.To the Lord Privy SealContending kings, and fields of death, too longHave been ...
So spake the Son of God; and Satan stoodA while as mute, confounded what to say,What to reply, confuted and ...
One after one the stars have risen and set,Sparkling upon the hoarfrost on my chain:The Bear, that prowled all night ...
Once on a timeThere was a little boy: a master-mageBy virtue of a BookOf magic--O, so magical it filledHis life ...
1A sudden bliss has seized my mind,And to a mountain peak it carries meUp where the wind's forgotten how to ...
Through the rocks in wildest courses Seethes the Terek grim of mood,Tempest howling its bewailing, Pearled with foam its tearful flood.At the ...
WHAT sudden voice peals to the Caucasus,To Finland and the bitter Caspian,To those Siberian prisons whither manShall seek as to ...
A dove flew with an Olive Branch; It crossed the sea and reached the shore, And on a ship about ...
Not always o'er the meads and hills, From low'ring clouds, the rain distils, Nor storms with endless uproar sweep The ...
'Twixt Lincolnshire and Yorkshire rolls A river in its bed,Which in the German Ocean falls, 'Twixt Saltfleet and ...
I'll leave the mortal world behind,Take wing in an flight fantastical,With singing, my eternal soulWill rise up swan-like in the ...
Until the Desert knows That Water grows His Sands suffice But let him once suspect That Caspian Fact Sahara dies ...
The Bird did prance -- the Bee did play -- The Sun ran miles away So blind with joy he ...
To lose thee -- sweeter than to gain All other hearts I knew. 'Tis true the drought is destitute, But ...
Least Rivers -- docile to some sea. My Caspian -- thee. (Emily Dickinson)
Many a phrase has the English language -- I have heard but one -- Low as the laughter of the ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
1 O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds! Such join'd unended links, each hook'd ...
So spake the Son of God; and Satan stood A while as mute, confounded what to say, What to reply, ...
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