Night Poem (Margaret Atwood Poem)
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your ...
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your ...
OUT over the Forth, I look to the North; But what is the north and its Highlands to me? The ...
WEE, modest crimson-tippèd flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender ...
YESTREEN I had a pint o' wine, A place where body saw na; Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine ...
CAULD blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shill's I hear the ...
THERE was three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath ...
WHEN chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet; As market days are wearing late, And folk begin ...
There were three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, An' they hae sworn a solemn oath ...
A Tale "Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke." -Gawin Douglas. When chapman billies leave the street, And ...
ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH, IN APRIL, 1786 Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, Thou's met me in an evil ...
I would build a cloudy House For my thoughts to live in; When for earth too fancy-loose And too low ...
I. Dead ! One of them shot by the sea in the east, And one of them shot in the ...
Whether on Ida's shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ...
O holy virgin! clad in purest white, Unlock heav'n's golden gates, and issue forth; Awake the dawn that sleeps in ...
AFRICA I will sing you a song of Los. the Eternal Prophet: He sung it to four harps at the ...
The Argument. Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air; Hungry clouds swag on the deep Once meek, ...
The wild winds weep And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning ...
My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white. White as ...
and the sun weilds mercy but like a jet torch carried to high, and the jets whip across its sight ...
Rudolph Reed was oaken. His wife was oaken too. And his two good girls and his good little man Oakened ...
here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in drag here comes nothing to do all day long ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories