Malcolm’s Katie: A Love Story – Part IV. (Isabella Valancy Crawford Poems)
From his far wigwam sprang the strong North WindAnd rush'd with war-cry down the steep ravines,And wrestl'd with the giants ...
From his far wigwam sprang the strong North WindAnd rush'd with war-cry down the steep ravines,And wrestl'd with the giants ...
But since I've taught already of what sortThe seeds of all things are, and how distinctIn divers forms they flit ...
But since I've taught already of what sortThe seeds of all things are, and how distinctIn divers forms they flit ...
To strive—and fail. Yes, I did strive and fail; I set mine eyes upon a certain nightTo find a certain star—and ...
A tower stands by the edge of a wood, an old weathered tower with moss and creepers growing across the ...
See me, by elemental warfare torn From yonder peak's aerial crest, Now on the rifted breast Of this ice--ocean borne By ministering ages without ...
Thine ocean laughed for joy, and all thy shoresResounded gleefully ; the towering cliffsAnd deep-set, tree-filled vales had voice and ...
(SAN JOSE, CAL.)The Edwin Markham HomeThis was the place wherein the singer tunedHis harp and listening, caught the immortal strain.Here ...
I see thy smile; at times, May's warm, young sun,At times, December's cold and threat'ning sky;Thy woman's hand aplucking at ...
The hoof-beats sound, the harness clacks and clinks, The wagon rattles in the frosty air Along the level prairie road ...
I would have been as great as George EliotBut for an untoward fate.For look at the photograph of me made ...
Her eyes are of that pure and perfect grey Which Pallas flashed upon the men of Greece, While Hector shore ...
From out a windy cleft there comes a gazeOf eyes unearthly, which go to and froUpon the people's tumult, for ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. I said, "O Soul, make merry ...
As a boy, Theodore, you sat for long hours On the shore of the turbid Spoon With deep-set eye staring ...
I would have been as great as George Eliot But for an untoward fate. For look at the photograph of ...
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