British Georgics. July (James Grahame Poems)
No more at dewy dawn, or setting sun,The blackbird's song floats mellow down the dale;Mute is the lark, or soars ...
No more at dewy dawn, or setting sun,The blackbird's song floats mellow down the dale;Mute is the lark, or soars ...
TO G. F. M. THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED IN MEMORY OF MANY DAYS. _What though I dreamed of mountain heights, Of peaks, the barriers of ...
An agate-black, your roguish eyesClaim no proud lineage of the skies,No starry blue; but of good earthThe reckless witchery and ...
Water-LiliesThey float ethereal, unearthly white Upon the bosom of the darkling mere,Raying the dusk with slumbrous silver light-- Eidolons of lost moons ...
Were you to come,With your clear, gray eyesAs calmly placid as, in summer's heat,At noontide lie the sultry skies;With your ...
Sing on, dear bird! Bring the old rapturous pain,In this great town, where I no welcome find.Show me the murmuring ...
IX"My lips do need thy breath, My lips do need thy smile, And my pallid eyne, ...
I have seen things that charmed the heart to rest:Faint moonlight on the towers of ancient towns,Flattering the soul to ...
Oh! To be a flower Nodding in the sun, Bending, then upspringing As the breezes run; Holding up A scent-brimmed ...
Like burnt-out torches by a sick man's bed Gaunt cypress-trees stand round the sun-bleached stone; Here doth the little night-owl ...
STR. 1 I laid my laurel-leaf At the white feet of grief, Seeing how with covered face and plumeless wings, ...
HARK! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On ...
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