Clio Fatidica (E W Bowling Poems)
Tell me, Muse, what colour floateth round the River's ancient head: Is it white and black, or white ...
Tell me, Muse, what colour floateth round the River's ancient head: Is it white and black, or white ...
O I forbid you, maidens a',That wear gowd on your hair,To come or gae by Carterhaugh,For young Tam Lin is ...
_Stanzas from "Onegin"_Our Northern Winter's fickle Summer,Than Southern Winter scarce more bland--Is undeniably withdrawingOn fleeting footsteps from the land.Soon will ...
Nay seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore,Nor question that the tenor of my life,Past, present and the future, ...
My little love, do you remember,Ere we were grown so sadly wise,Those evenings in the bleak December,Curtained warm from the ...
She had a boxwith a million red bandanas for him.She gave them to himone by one or by thousands,saying then ...
AH, many a time our memory slips asideAnd leaves the round of present cares and joys,To live again the time ...
The little angels of HeavenEach wear a long white dress,And in the tall arcadingsPlay ball and play at chess;With never ...
Two monks sit facing, playing chess on the mountain,The bamboo shadow on the board is dark and clear.Not a person ...
Continuing to live -- that is, repeat A habit formed to get necessaries -- Is nearly always losing, or going ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
Here rests beneath this hospitable spot A youth to flats and flatties not unknown. The Plymouth Brethren gave it to ...
Here rests beneath this hospitable spot A youth to flats and flatties not unknown. The Plymouth Brethren gave it to ...
There are no postage stamps that send letters back to England three centuries ago, no postage stamps that make letters ...
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith! We ...
Saddle and ride, I heard a man say, Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea, What says the Clock in the ...
Richard Chessick, John Gedo, James Grotstein and Vamik Voltan What darknesses have you lit up for me What depths of ...
My dream had never died or lived again. As in some mystic middle state I lay; Seeing I saw not, ...
I am torn in two but I will conquer myself. I will dig up the pride. I will take scissors ...
Somebody is shooting at something in our town -- A dull pom, pom in the Sunday street. Jealousy can open ...
"My propositions serve as elucidations in the following way: anyone who understands them eventually recognizes them as nonsensical, when he ...
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