The Club Raid (Billy Bennett Poems)
I'm a lover of night-life in LondonWhen I start I can go pretty fastI've blotted me copy book I must ...
I'm a lover of night-life in LondonWhen I start I can go pretty fastI've blotted me copy book I must ...
"Through two small windows sunshine slanted in To die upon the splintery schoolroom floor, While the October gusts whipped dirt ...
Come all you young seamen, take heed now to me,A hard case old sailorman bred to the sea,As had sailed ...
If ghosts should walk in Deptford, as very well they may,A man might find the night there more stirring than ...
Some blind themselves, 'cause possibly they may Be led by others a right way;They build on sands, which ...
It takes all sorts to make a world, an' the same to make a crew;It takes the good an' middlin' ...
When we for age could neither read nor write, The subject made us able to indite. The soul, ...
The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er; So calm are we when passions are no more. For then ...
Chained is the Spring. The Night-wind boldBlows over the hard earth;Time is not more confused and cold,Nor keeps more wintry ...
I Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss -- fall the raindrops on ...
Full of wrath was Hiawatha When he came into the village, Found the people in confusion, Heard of all the ...
Let the light of late afternoon shine through chinks in the barn, moving up the bales as the sun moves ...
GROWLTIGER was a Bravo Cat, who lived upon a barge; In fact he was the roughest cat that ever roamed ...
I Where the quiet-coloured end of evening smiles Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our sheep Half-asleep Tinkle ...
The Argument. Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air; Hungry clouds swag on the deep Once meek, ...
Three hours ago he blundered up the trench, Sliding and poising, groping with his boots; Sometimes he tripped and lurched ...
I Moonlight and dew-drenched blossom, and the scent Of summer gardens; these can bring you all Those dreams that in ...
Three hours ago he blundered up the trench, Sliding and poising, groping with his boots; Sometimes he tripped and lurched ...
Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch, Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the ...
There is a knocking in the skull, An endless silent shout Of something beating on a wall, And crying, "Let ...
A pathetic tragedy I will relate, Concerning poor Fred. Marsden's fate, Who suffocated himself by the fumes of gas, On ...
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