In a Paris Restaurant (Henry Cuyler Bunner Poems)
I gaze, while thrills my heart with patriot pride,Upon the exquisite skin, rose-flushed and creamy;The perfect little head; on either ...
I gaze, while thrills my heart with patriot pride,Upon the exquisite skin, rose-flushed and creamy;The perfect little head; on either ...
Poore Love in chaines, and fetters like a thiefeI mett ledd forth, as chast Diana's gaineVowing the untaught Lad should ...
It is but a lone faded rosebudThat a dearly loved one gave to me,In years now long past but rememberedAnd ...
I am a harp of many chords, and eachStrung by a separate hand;-most musicalMy notes, discoursing with the mental sense,Not ...
I am a harp of many chords, and eachStrung by a separate hand;-most musicalMy notes, discoursing with the mental sense,Not ...
Condemn'd by Fate to way-ward Curse, Of Friends unkind, and empty Purse: Plagues worse than fill'd ...
THE CONVERT.Some to our Hero have a hero's nameDenied, because no father's he could claim;Nor could his mother with precision ...
Gazing upon the toiling seas,In gloomy rows the silent captives sate;And as the ship rode off before the breeze,They murmured ...
''Not with you to take counsel, Powers of heaven,-- For still that title ours,--in so great haste Hither have I ...
Tombed in the solid night of starless space; From nearest living orb so far removed, That light, of all material ...
Throughout the city, and the lands around, Soon ran the rumour that, from Israel's God, Moses a word had brought ...
SEATED in a Moorish garden On the Sahel of Algiers, Wandering breezes brought the burden Of its history in past ...
'C'est l? le myst?re apr?s lequel soupirent toutes les ?mes exil?es, qui s'affligent sur les fleuves de Babylon en se ...
Do I know Polly Brown? Do I know her? Why, damme, You ...
Mean while thro' savage woods, and deserts vast, The captive with his Midian masters past. At last rich Egypt's pleasant ...
I'm weary of this weather and I hanker for the waysWhich people read of in the psalms and preachers paraphrase--The ...
POET of the Pulpit, whose full-chorded lyre Startles the churches from their slumbers late, Discoursing music, mixed with lofty ire ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
'Twas at that hour of beauty when the setting sun squandereth his cloudy bed with rosy hues, to flood his ...
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to ...
Young palmer sun, that to these shining sands Pourest thy pilgrim's tale, discoursing still Thy silver passages of sacred lands, ...
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