Dick Whittington And His Cat (Clara Doty Bates Poems)
Dick, as a little lad, was told That the London streets were paved with gold. He never, in ...
Dick, as a little lad, was told That the London streets were paved with gold. He never, in ...
St. Regimund, e'er he became a saint,Was much imbued with vulgar earthly taint;E'er he renounced the honors of a KnightAnd ...
Come, leave the loathed stage, And the more loathsome age; Where pride and impudence, in faction knit, ...
FAIR daughter of that fleeting raceWho fade like Autumn's leafy store,Welcome, my rocky haunts to trace,And all my secret cells ...
What says the Lizard, Swinging high his shining spear? . . ."Pass along, my lady, I've known, ye ...
What do poets want with gold,Cringing slaves and cushioned ease;Are not crusts and garments oldBetter for their souls than these?Gold ...
Why do you strike up songs military Fife-like, o, bullfinch, my friend?Who'll take the lead in our fight with Hell's ...
In memory of S. B. V., 1834-1909... so what the lame four-poster gathered hereBetween the lips of stale and seasoned ...
Minstrel, what have you to doWith this man that, after you,Sharing not your happy fate,Sat as England's Laureate?Vainly, in these ...
Already fallen plum-bloom stars the green And apple-boughs as knarred as old toads' backs Wear their ...
Come, leave the loathed stage, And the more loathsome age; Where pride and impudence, in faction knit, Usurp the chair ...
After Joseph Roth Parce que c'était lui; parce que c'était moi. Montaigne, De L'amitië The dream's forfeit was a night ...
I have been reading Pomfret's "Choice" this spring, A pretty kind of--sort of--kind of thing, Not much a verse, and ...
In the beginning was Scream Who begat Blood Who begat Eye Who begat Fear Who begat Wing Who begat Bone ...
Upon Bottle Miche the autre day While yet the nuit was early, Je met a homme whose barbe was grey, ...
A RETURN TO THE COVER OF THIS BOOK Dear Trout Fishing in America: I met your friend Fritz in Washington ...
My shadow said to me: what is the matter Isn't the moon warm enough for you why do you need ...
in the hospitals and jails it's the worst in madhouses it's the worst in penthouses it's the worst in skid ...
The baby in the looking-glass Is smiling through at me; She has her teaspoon in her hand, Her feeder on ...
Minstrel, what have you to do With this man that, after you, Sharing not your happy fate, Sat as England's ...
Numb, stiff, broken by no sleep, I keep night watch. Looking for signs to quiet fear, I creep closer to ...
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