Luna (Gerald Miller Poems)
TOO soon the sunset comes; too soonOpens the night its curious eyes,Greedy to watch the maiden moon Unloose her silver draperiesAnd ...
TOO soon the sunset comes; too soonOpens the night its curious eyes,Greedy to watch the maiden moon Unloose her silver draperiesAnd ...
Living in a wide landscape are the flowers -Rosenberg I only repeat what you were saying -the shell and the ...
I watched you saunter down the sand:Serene and large, the golden weatherFlowed radiant round your peacock feather,And glistered from your ...
IN her vast church of glimmering blue,Gray-stoled from feet to chin,Her dark locks beaded with the dew,The nun-like dawn comes ...
Oh what is fame! a flower that dies at eve, A golden mist that subtle fancies weave, An unknown star ...
THERE'S a mansion old 'mid the hills of the west,So old, that men know not by whom it was built;But ...
Hail! thou eternal flood, whose restless waves Roll onward in their course, as wild and free, As if the shores ...
The long days came and went; the riotous beesTore the warm grapes in many a dusty vine,And men grew faint ...
A TRUE mirror now I'll show, If attention you'll bestow,--The present times pourtray'd with its follies, O; ...
Curtains of rockAnd tears of stone,Wet leaves in a high crevice of the sky:From side to side the draperiesDrawn back ...
Their spirits beat upon mineLike the wings of a thousand butterflies.I closed my eyes and felt their spirits vibrating.I closed ...
The white mist walks between the treesIn silver gown;Her mystic floating draperiesThe branches drown;And lurking there with eager leerAnd wonder ...
Too far away, oh love, I know, To save me from this haunted road, Whose lofty roses break and blow ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
After Joseph Roth Parce que c'était lui; parce que c'était moi. Montaigne, De L'amitië The dream's forfeit was a night ...
She was a woman peerless in her station, With household virtues wedded to her name; Spotless in linen, grass-bleached in ...
O thou who passest thro' our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from ...
(For Harry Clifton) I HAVE heard that hysterical women say They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow. Of poets ...
At break of day the College Portress came: She brought us Academic silks, in hue The lilac, with a silken ...
Their spirits beat upon mine Like the wings of a thousand butterflies. I closed my eyes and felt their spirits ...
Dear Mother-Earth Of Titan birth, Yon hills are your large breasts, and often I Have climbed to their top-nipples, fain ...
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