The Foster-Child (Mary Elizabeth Robinson Poems)
IN IMITATION OF SPENCER.CANTO I.'MID Cambria's hills a lowly cottage stood,Circled with mossy tufts of sombre green;A vagrant brook flow'd ...
IN IMITATION OF SPENCER.CANTO I.'MID Cambria's hills a lowly cottage stood,Circled with mossy tufts of sombre green;A vagrant brook flow'd ...
MAC DUFF'S CROSS,A DRAMA.PRELUDE.NAY , smile not, lady, when I speak of witchcraft,And say that still there lurks amongst our ...
Before Granada's fated walls the Christian legions stand,A numerous and a valiant—but why a sullen band?The politic, wise Ferdinand's injunctions they ...
I.Here is the skull of a man: a man's thoughts and emotionsHave moved under the thin bone vault like cloudsUnder ...
The crooked paths go every way Upon the hill — they wind aboutThrough the heather in and out Of the quiet sunniness.And ...
Ah, bannered stars and stripes! your gloryHath paled, the blazoned folds all goryWith kindred blood hang sadly drooping;The eagle and ...
MEN! if manhood still ye claim,If the Northern pulse can thrill,Roused by wrong or stung by shame,Freely, strongly still;Let the ...
NARROW paths my passions tread:Laughter rings there, sorrow cries;Sick and sad, with half-shut eyes,Thro' the leaves the woods have shed, My ...
Yet once more, Harp of prophecy, once moreFondly I come soliciting thine aid;By whose celestial minstrelsy inspiredThe saintly Enoch walk'd ...
Deep in the bosom of a wood,Out of the road, a Temple stood:Ancient, and much the worse for wear,It call'd ...
Cuckoo, are you calling me,Or is it a voice of wizardry?In these woodlands I am lost,From glade to glade of ...
HOW lightly men can love, how soon forget! I said--yet some there be not false or fickle: For one, the ...
_And that a reply be received before midnight.__British Ultimatum_.Their Day was at twelve of the night, When the graves give ...
October, brown October, with his slowAnd melancholy step, has left the hills And comes upon the plains. The wild winds ...
GROWING old, and looking back Wistfully along his track, I have heard him try to tell, With a smile a ...
All the day the light lies dreaming, dreaming,Quietly on the lea.All the day the ships go sailing, sailing,Over an unseen ...
I have been so great a lover: filled my days So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise, The pain, ...
All the night in woe, Lyca's parents go: Over vallies deep. While the desarts weep. Tired and woe-begone. Hoarse with ...
(To Marcel Schwob in friendship and in admiration) In a dim corner of my room for longer than my fancy ...
In truth, oh Love, with what a boyish kind Thou doest proceed in thy most serious ways: That when the ...
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