Paradise Lost : Book XII. (John Milton Poems)
As one who in his journey bates at noon,Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel pausedBetwixt the world destroyed ...
As one who in his journey bates at noon,Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel pausedBetwixt the world destroyed ...
LATE SUMMER _Heat lightning flickers in one cloud, As in a flow'r a firefly; Some rain-drops, that the rose-bush bowed, Jar through the leaves ...
"Thou askest with thy studious eyes again, Here where the restless forest hears the main Toss in a troubled sleep and moan. ...
THE issue of great Jove, draw near, you Muses nine!Help us to praise the blissful plot of garden ground so ...
Castro Alves from Brazil, for whom did you sing?Did you sing for the flower? For the waterwhose beauty whispered words ...
Because her eyes were far too deepAnd holy for a laugh to leapAcross the brink where sorrow triedTo drown within ...
Let's look straightAt the greatness of the stars,Raising our eyes from the dewed fields.It's said that they glow for you,Insect ...
I wonder if the spell, the mystery,That like a haze about your silence clings,Moulding your void until we seem to ...
December: ?gloga Duodecima.He gentle shepheard satte beside a springe, All in the shadowe of a bushy brere, That Colin hight, ...
Where is Australia, singer, do you know? These sordid farms and joyless factories, Mephitic mines and lanes of pallid woe? ...
Now Spring returns with leaf and blade,Some seek the garden, some the glade;And all to Nature turn, but ITo the ...
In feeling I was but a child,When first we met—one year ago,As free and guileless as the bird,That roams the ...
I lingered still when you were gone, When tryst and trust were o'er, While memory like a ...
MORNING and evening Maids heard the goblins cry: "Come buy our orchard fruits, Come buy, come buy: Apples and quinces, ...
When yellow leaves the sky they pipe it to the houses to go on making red and warm and floral ...
If Mary had known When she held her Babe's hands in her own Little hands that were tender and white ...
As one who in his journey bates at noon, Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused Betwixt the ...
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