Sonnet CCLXIX: “Her nose is not the rigid Phidian line” (George Henry Boker Poems)
Her nose is not the rigid Phidian line, From tip straight upward to the low-grown hair, A line too perfect, ...
Her nose is not the rigid Phidian line, From tip straight upward to the low-grown hair, A line too perfect, ...
906The Admirations-and Contempts-of time-Show justest-through an Open Tomb-The Dying-as it were a HeightReorganizes EstimateAnd what We saw notWe distinguish clear-And ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
An Unpublished Poem, by my late Latin Tutor. In candent ire the solar splendor flames; The foles, languescent, pend from ...
Hapcot! To thee the Fairy State I with discretion, dedicate. Because thou prizest things that are Curious, and un-familiar. Take ...
one morning the bone was there set in the centre of waste ground against the early morning sun the frost ...
A fall on the ice, two plus year ago a concave spot, in my left hip, where it once was ...
The Admirations -- and Contempts -- of time -- Show justest -- through an Open Tomb -- The Dying -- ...
Recite the loves of Narva and Mored The priest of Chalma's triple idol said. High from the ground the youthful ...
All-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow'r, Hope's tow'ring plumage falls to rise no more! Of scenes terrestrial how the glories ...
Shall the great soul of Newton quit this earth, To mingle with his stars; and every muse, Astonish'd into silence, ...
Her dead lady's joy and comfort, Who departed this life The last day of March, 1727: To the great joy ...
High, on the Solitude of Alpine Hills, O'er-topping the grand imag'ry of Nature, Where one eternal winter seem'd to reign; ...
FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded A plaintful story from a sistering vale, My spirits to attend this ...
WHERE on the bosom of the foamy RHINE, In curling waves the rapid waters shine; Where tow'ring cliffs in awful ...
PALE GODDESS of the witching hour; Blest Contemplation's placid friend; Oft in my solitary bow'r, I mark thy lucid beam ...
While from the dizzy precipice I gaze, The world receding from my pensive eyes, High o'er my head the tyrant ...
C. Damon come drive thy flocks this way. D. No : 'tis too late they went astray. C. I have ...
High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind, Or where the ...
Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the World, and ...
"O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead! The Time needs heart -- 'tis tired of head: We're all for ...
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