The Cynotaph, (Richard Harris Barham Poems)
Poor Tray charmant!Poor Tray de mon Ami!-- Dog-bury, and Vergers.Oh! where shall I bury my poor dog Tray,Now his fleeting ...
Poor Tray charmant!Poor Tray de mon Ami!-- Dog-bury, and Vergers.Oh! where shall I bury my poor dog Tray,Now his fleeting ...
One sees in Viteall Yard,Vere pleacemen do resort,A wenerable hinstitute,'Tis call'd the Pallis Court.A gent as got his i on ...
I. Tugg Martin's tough.--No doubt o' that! And down there at The town he come from word's bin sent Advisin' this-here Settle-ment To kindo' _humor_ ...
Now this is the song of a prison-a song of a gaol or jug-A ballad of quod or of chokey, ...
Wide as the sky Time spreads his hand,And blindly over us there blowsA swarm of years that fill the land,Then ...
Wherefore pay youThis adoration to a sinful creature?I am flesh and blood, as you are, sensibleOf heat and cold, as ...
The Harlem Advocate fell between his legs.The story was incredible!Taking off his glasses,Uncle Rufus rubbed the lenses and thought.though.Yes, his ...
Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!Quenched youth, and is that thy ...
ACT IV.SCENE I. The City Hall at Nordhausen. Deputies and Burghers assembling. To the right, at a table near the ...
Do I know Polly Brown? Do I know her? Why, damme, You ...
My darling's brow is classic, low and wide, A forehead Grecian Helen might have kissed, In envious homage that her ...
"And Gallio cared for none of these things."-- Acts xviii. 17 "Little Foxes"-- Actions and Reactions. All day long to ...
The saris go by me from the embassies. Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet. They look back at ...
A young man of strong body, weakened by hunger, sat on the walker's portion of the street stretching his hand ...
An honest Tear Is durabler than Bronze -- This Cenotaph May each that dies -- Reared by itself -- No ...
It brings to mind Swift leaving a fortune to Dublin 'For the founding of a lunatic asylum - no place ...
I am the faythfull deputy Unto your fading memory. Your Index long in search doth hold; Your folded wrinkles make ...
When SUPERSTITION rul'd the land And Priestcraft shackled Reason, At GODSTOW dwelt a goodly band, Grey monks they were, and ...
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