Georgic 1 (Publius Vergilius Maro Poems)
What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what starMaecenas, it is meet to turn the sodOr marry elm with vine; how ...
What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what starMaecenas, it is meet to turn the sodOr marry elm with vine; how ...
O CHRYSTE, it is a grief for me to tell;HOW manie a nobil erle and valrous knyghteIn fyghtynge for Kynge ...
"Delightful are trees and fields with the outgrowth of new tender-leaves and crops, Lodhra trees are with their blossomy flowers, ...
The battlefield behind us, And night loomed on the track;The Friends of Fallen Fortunes Were riding at my back.Save those who lay ...
I. What deity for dozing laziness Devised the lounging coziness of this Enchanted nook?--and how!--did I distress His musing ease that fled but now, ...
(KEEWATIN.)A land untamed, whose myriad islesAre set in branching lakes that veinIllimitable silent woods,Voiceful in Fall, when their defiles,Rich with ...
They tell me that your hearthas been found in Iowa,pumping along Interstate 35.Do you want it back?When the cold comes ...
Gas flaring on the yellow platform; voices running up and down;Milk-tins in cold dented silver; half-awake I stare,Pull up the ...
A dented spider like a snow drop whiteOn a white Heal-all, holding up a mothLike a white piece of lifeless ...
, The wrathful winter, 'proaching on apace, With blustering blasts had all ybar'd the treen, And old Saturnus, ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
All the endings in my life rise up against me like that sea of troubles Shakespeare mixed with metaphors; like ...
This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding ...
A dented spider like a snow drop white On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece ...
Si credere dignum est.--Virgil, Georgics, III, 390 Oh, worthy of belief I hold it was, Virgil, your legend in those ...
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...
They tell me that your heart has been found in Iowa, pumping along Interstate 35. Do you want it back? ...
There are days when one should be able to pluck off one's head like a dented or worn helmet, straight ...
If Mary had known When she held her Babe's hands in her own Little hands that were tender and white ...
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