Phantasmagoria CANTO VII ( Sad Souvenaunce ) (Lewis Carroll Poem)
"WHAT'S this?" I pondered. "Have I slept? Or can I have been drinking?" But soon a gentler feeling crept Upon ...
"WHAT'S this?" I pondered. "Have I slept? Or can I have been drinking?" But soon a gentler feeling crept Upon ...
From his shoulder Hiawatha Took the camera of rosewood, Made of sliding, folding rosewood; Neatly put it all together. In ...
Dedication Inscribed to a dear Child: in memory of golden summer hours and whispers of a summer sea. Girt with ...
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh ...
There is a child I used to know who sat, perhaps, at this same desk where you sit now, and ...
You came to me as rain breaks on the desert when every flower springs to life at once, but joy ...
You made us hopeful, LORD; where is your Hope when every lovely Rainbow bright and chill reflects your Will? You ...
I held the switch in trembling fingers, asked why existence felt so small, so purposeless, like a minnow wriggling feebly ...
I flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying. I said, "Wait on, wait on, while I ride ...
And then life; and once again A house where I was born. Around us The granary above what once had ...
When first we met she seemed so white I feared her; As one might near a spirit bright I neared ...
What I hope (when I hope) is that we'll see each other again,-- . . . and again reach the ...
Ferdinand was systematic when he drove his daughter mad. With a Casanova's careful art, he moved slowly, stole only one ...
Farewell to thee! but not farewell To all my fondest thoughts of thee: Within my heart they still shall dwell; ...
SHE will not sleep, for fear of dreams, But, rising, quits her restless bed, And walks where some beclouded beams ...
I. I dream of you walking at night along the streams of the country of my birth, warm blooms and ...
She has attained the permanence She dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning. Untended stalks blow over her Even and ...
After the whipping he crawled into bed, Accepting the harsh fact with no great weeping. How funny uncle's hat had ...
The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war ...
The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war ...
I Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep ...
In the night-reaches dreamed he of better graces, of liberations, and beloved faces, such as now ere dawn he sings. ...
She mentioned 'worthless' & he took it in, degraded Henry, at the ebb of loveâ?" O at the end of ...
Here, whence all have departed orwill do, here airless, where that witchy ball wanted, fought toward, dreamed of, all a ...
Was there a Garden or was the Garden a dream? Amid the fleeting light, I have slowed myself and queried, ...
My youth was nothing but a black storm Crossed now and then by brilliant suns. The thunder and the rain ...
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story ...
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story ...
Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build, Bidding my organ obey, calling its keys to their work, ...
At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time, When you set your fancies free, Will they pass to where--by ...
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