Aforetime (Thomas Sturge Moore Poems)
Dear exile from the hurrying crowd,At work I muse to you aloud;Thought on my anvil softens, glows,And I forget our ...
Dear exile from the hurrying crowd,At work I muse to you aloud;Thought on my anvil softens, glows,And I forget our ...
A POEM IN THREE CANTOS Canto I Ye Alps audacious, through the heavens that rise,To cramp the day and hide me from ...
You, who the sweets of rural life have known,Despise the ungrateful hurry of the town;In Windsor groves your easy hours ...
In the dark Backward of six thousand Years,(So Moses writes and all our Christian Seers)The World, a rude, unfashion'd Embryo ...
Thus Mommus spoke. When sage Minerva rose,From her sweet lips smooth elocution flows,Her skilful hand an ivory pallet grac'd,Where shining ...
Thou ruler of heaven, of earth, and the main,Of wind, and of weather, of tempests, and rain,O, list to the ...
A wretch, in smoaky Dublin pent,Who rarely sees the Firmament,You graciously invite, to viewThe Sun's enliv'ning Rays with you;To change ...
Move on thou floating Trophee built to fame!And bid her trump spread thy Majestick name;That the blew Tritons, and those ...
Shh! on a twine hung from disastered treesHenry is swinging his daughter. They seem drunk.Over across them look out,tranquil, the ...
THE PLEASVRE OF RETIREMENT. The Reinvitation. THEOPHISA's fill'd wth Sweetness, & so Fair: Her Eyes so mild, her Breath perfumes ...
NOW Winter pours his terrors o'er the plain,And icy barriers close the wild domain,From the fierce North the sweeping blast ...
LAND of departed fame! whose classic plains Have proudly echo'd to immortal strains; Whose hallow'd soil hath given the great ...
Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!Quenched youth, and is that thy ...
Over the great windy waters, and over the clear-crested summits, Unto the sun and the sky, and unto the perfecter ...
To hold a station on the trembling earth, To weary time with looking at our names-- This is the lust ...
"GREEN blood fresh pulsing through the trees, Blacks buds, that sun and shower distend; All other things begin anew, ...
Were I not a patriot, which of course I am, I would explain just how the term remains a sticking ...
Shh! on a twine hung from disastered trees Henry is swinging his daughter. They seem drunk. Over across them look ...
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