Coombe-Ellen (William Lisle Bowles Poems)
Call the strange spirit that abides unseenIn wilds, and wastes, and shaggy solitudes,And bid his dim hand lead thee through ...
Call the strange spirit that abides unseenIn wilds, and wastes, and shaggy solitudes,And bid his dim hand lead thee through ...
I."Stay, traveller, stay thy weary steed,The sultry hour of noon is near,Of rest thy way-worn limbs have need,Stay, then, and, ...
Entranced I saw a vision in the cloudThat loitered dreaming in yon sunset sky,Full of fair shapes, half creatures of ...
DEAR GOVERNOR, if my skiff might braveThe winds that lift the ocean wave,The mountain stream that loops and swervesThrough my ...
The eastward spurs tip backward from the sun.Nights runs an obscure tide round cape and bayand beats with boats of ...
'Qui vive?' The sentry's musket rings,The channelled bayonet gleams;High o'er him, like a raven's wingsThe broad tricolored banner flingsIts shadow, ...
"What though the Isthmus lacks an ocean-gate,Delve not the soil! If Jove had willed it so,His watchful power had opened ...
Why will you haunt me unawares,And walk into my sleep,Pacing its shadowy thoroughfares,Where long-dried perfume scents the airs,While ghosts of ...
Fra Paolo, since they say the end is near,And you of all men have the gentlest eyes,Most like our father ...
Between the green bud and the redYouth sat and sang by Time, and shed From eyes and tresses flowers ...
Mother of man's time-travelling generations, Breath of his nostrils, heartblood of his heart,God above all Gods worshipped of all ...
DID she in summer write it, or in spring, Or with this wail of autumn ...
The decorously informative churchGuide to Sex suggested that any urgecould well be controlled by playing tennis:and the game provided also ...
Green sea-tarnished copperAnd sea-tarnished goldOf cupolas.Sea-runnelled streetsChannelled by salt airThat wears the white stone.The sunlight-filled cisternOf a dry-dock. Square shadows.Sun-slatted ...
A buglar boy from barrack (it is over the hill There)-boy bugler, born, he tells me, of Irish Mother to ...
Green sea-tarnished copper And sea-tarnished gold Of cupolas. Sea-runnelled streets Channelled by salt air That wears the white stone. The ...
Between the green bud and the red Youth sat and sang by Time, and shed From eyes and tresses flowers ...
Mother of man's time-travelling generations, Breath of his nostrils, heartblood of his heart, God above all Gods worshipped of all ...
I look into the aching womb of night; I look across the mist that masks the dead; The moon is ...
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