The Misanthropis (James Monroe Whitfield Poems)
In vain thou bid'st me strike the lyre, And sing a song of mirth and glee,Or, kindling with poetic fire, Attempt some ...
In vain thou bid'st me strike the lyre, And sing a song of mirth and glee,Or, kindling with poetic fire, Attempt some ...
We are the guns, and your masters! Saw ye our flashes ?Heard ye the scream of our shells in the ...
Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath, readA volume of the Law, in which it said,"No man shall look upon my ...
This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling,Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms;But front their silent pipes no ...
O SUDDEN blast, that through this silence black Sweeps past my windows, Coming and going with invisible track As death ...
A WIND-SWEPT tulip-bed--a colored cloud Of butterflies careering in the air-- A many-figured arras stirred to life, And merry unto ...
This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms; But front their silent ...
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