Tale XIX (George Crabbe Poems)
THE CONVERT.Some to our Hero have a hero's nameDenied, because no father's he could claim;Nor could his mother with precision ...
THE CONVERT.Some to our Hero have a hero's nameDenied, because no father's he could claim;Nor could his mother with precision ...
There are who complain that my verse is severe, And what is much worse--that my Book is too dear: The ...
I geet up a-milkin' this mornin',- I geet up afore it wur leet;I ne'er slept a minute for ...
Sing me the men ere thisWho, to the gate that isA cloven pearl uprapt,The big white bars betweenWith dying eyes ...
Prudence Mears hath an old blue plate Hid away in an oaken chest,And a Franklin platter of ancient date Beareth ...
I'm sick of "musn'ts," said Dorothy D.Sick of musn'ts, as I can be.From early dawn till the close of dayI ...
I studied my tables over and overAnd backward and forward tooBut I couldn't remember six times nineAnd I didn't know ...
I've a lovely new cup from Uncle John, Said Dorothy; "only see-- It has beautiful golden letters on, And they ...
I am the sister of himAnd he is my brotherHe is too little for usTo talk to each other.So every ...
Miss Dorothy SayersNever cared about the Himalayas.The height that gave her a thrillWas Primrose Hill.(Edmund Clerihew Bentley)
GRANDMOTHER's mother: her age, I guess, Thirteen summers, or something less; Girlish bust, but womanly air; Smooth, square forehead with ...
I bear a basket lined with grass; I am so light, I am so fair, That men must wonder as ...
Christ's love eternal without beginning or end in the arms of our father loving us as a true friend holding ...
Prudence Mears hath an old blue plate Hid away in an oaken chest, And a Franklin platter of ancient date ...
William, my teacher, my friend ! dear William and dear Dorothea ! Smooth out the folds of my letter, and ...
HERE is the chamber consecrate, Wherein this maiden delicate, And enigmatically sedate, Fans herself while the moments creep, Upon her ...
There is a queen in China, or maybe it's in Spain, And birthdays and holidays such praises can be heard ...
(To Paul Sykes, author of 'Sweet Agony') He demolished five doors at a sitting And topped it off with an ...
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
Seven o'clock. The seventh day of the seventh month of the year. No sooner have I got myself up in ...
Alas! the people now do sigh and moan For the loss of Wm. Ewart Gladstone, Who was a very great ...
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