Honours — Part II. (Jean Ingelow Poems)
As one who, journeying, checks the rein in haste Because a chasm doth yawn across his wayToo wide for leaping, and ...
As one who, journeying, checks the rein in haste Because a chasm doth yawn across his wayToo wide for leaping, and ...
"Oh, dear, this utterly sweltering season of the highly rampant sun is drawing nigh, and it will always be good ...
I come, blood on blood,like the sea, wave on wave.I have a soul the colour of poppies.The luckless poppy is ...
Died March 20, 1875.I.DEAD, with his harness on him:Rigid and cold and white,Marking the place of the vanguardStill in the ...
Feet of the flying, and fierce Tops of the sharp-headed spear,Hard by the thickets that pierce, Lo! they are nimble and near.Women ...
O steep and rugged Life, whose harsh ascentSlopes blindly upward through the bitter night!They say that on thy summit, high ...
Aw, go write yer tinklin' jingle, an' yer pretty phrases mingle,Fer the mamby-pamby girl, all fluffy frill an' shinin' silk.Them's ...
''Twill take some getting.' 'Sir, I think 'twill so.' The old man stared up at the mistletoe That hung too ...
Then was my neophyte,Child in white blood bent on its kneesUnder the bell of rocks,Ducked in the twelve, disciple seasThe ...
Around and beneath, the dull grey mist and the sullen roar of the sea,Scant footing-place on the sheer cliffs face-with ...
A child's a plaything for an hour; Its pretty tricks we tryFor that or for a longer space; Then tire, ...
HER griefs were the hours When my struggle was sore,-- Her joys were the powers That the climber upbore. Her ...
How the mountains talked together, Looking down upon the weather, When they heard our friend had planned his Little trip ...
And a youth said, "Speak to us of Friendship." Your friend is your needs answered. He is your field which ...
How is one to describe this king of mountains? Throught the whole of Ch'i and Lu one never loses sight ...
Old King Cole Was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he He called for his pipe ...
Now as an angler melancholy standing Upon a green bank yielding room for landing, A wriggling yellow worm thrust on ...
WHEN Nature her great master-piece design'd, And fram'd her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all ...
Then was my neophyte, Child in white blood bent on its knees Under the bell of rocks, Ducked in the ...
This is the key to it. This is the key to everything. Preciously. I am worse than the gamekeeper's children ...
When at home alone I sit And am very tired of it, I have just to shut my eyes To ...
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