In a City Garden (Trumbull Stickney Poems)
How strange that here is nothing as it was!The sward is young and new,The sod there shapes a different mass,The ...
How strange that here is nothing as it was!The sward is young and new,The sod there shapes a different mass,The ...
"'He cometh not,' she said."—MARIANAIt will not be to-day and yetI think and dream it will; and letThe slow uncertainty ...
I was four yesterday: when I'm quite old,I'll have a cricket-ball made of pure gold;I'll carve the roast meat, and ...
The wild and wavy eventnow chintz at the windowwas revolution…Adamsto Miss Abigail Smith:You have faultsYou hang your head downlike a ...
I. UNDER THE TREES.There had been phantoms, pale-remembered shapesOf this and this occasion, sisterlyIn their resemblances, each effigyCrowned with the ...
Dear Dolly! who does not recallThe thrilling page that pictured allThose charms that held our sense in thrall Just as ...
As I sit here in the quiet Summer night, Suddenly, from the distant road, there comes The grind and rush ...
He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago, And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.', ...
(a) they seek to celebrate the word not to bring their knives out on a poem dissecting it to find ...
I suppose the time will come Aid it in the coming When the Bird will crowd the Tree And the ...
Her little head just topped the window-sill; She even mounted on a stool, maybe; She pressed against the pane, as ...
NOTHING so true as what you once let fall, "Most Women have no Characters at all." Matter too soft a ...
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