A Rain Song (E S Emmerson Poems)
There is music in the Mallee,Lilting music, soft and low,Like the songs in vale and valleyWhere the summer waters flow;But ...
There is music in the Mallee,Lilting music, soft and low,Like the songs in vale and valleyWhere the summer waters flow;But ...
The day's noise was draining away in my mindand the light from behind my eyeswhen savage Cypris grabbed a handful ...
Sweet is my lady's body; damask rose, Nor silver lily, nor pale asphodel, No burning myrrh, no real or fabled ...
Here a riddle has drawn a strange nailmark. To sleep now!I'll reread, understand with the light of the sun,But until ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
I like to find what's not found at once, but lies within something of another nature, in repose, distinct. Gull ...
It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went, For you sought the greener patches and you travelled ...
"Speak! speak I thou fearful guest Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! ...
i met a frog in my garden today lurking under a stone - it said there used to be a ...
After Minnesota's lakes in the winter of '71, it was no big deal but for us it was it was ...
Come, my darling, let us dance To the moon that beckons us To dissolve our love in trance Heedless of ...
Come, my darling, let us dance To the moon that beckons us To dissolve our love in trance Heedless of ...
Bells are booming down the bohreens, White the mist along the grass, Now the Julias, Maeves and Maureens Move between ...
A deep, delicious hush in earth and sky -- A gracious lull--since, from its wakening, The morn has been a ...
It is all right. All they do Is go in by dividing One rib from another. I wouldn't Lie to ...
Let Elizur rejoice with the Partridge, who is a prisoner of state and is proud of his keepers. Let Shedeur ...
Vicisti, Galilæe I have lived long enough, having seen one thing, that love hath an end; Goddess and maiden and ...
The riches of the poet are equal to his poetry His power is his left hand It is idle weak ...
And all that is this day. . . The boy with cap slung over what had been a face. .. ...
You bring me good news from the clinic, Whipping off your silk scarf, exhibiting the tight white Mummy-cloths, smiling: I'm ...
follows the river as it bends along the valley floor, going the way it must. Where water goes, so goes ...
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