307. Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson (Robert Burns Poem)
O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and bloody! The meikle devil wi' a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie, ...
O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and bloody! The meikle devil wi' a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smiddie, ...
AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods; Till full he dashes on the ...
Alone on the railroad track I walked with pounding heart. The ties were too close together or maybe too far ...
At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the ...
Inheritance. I wasn't raised to call myself Black, Indian, Chinese-- "You're human," said my parents. That was all. By the ...
I heard an echo in a hollow place. No sound of blowing wind or drifting sand, some ancient voice was ...
I. I wanted the macabre plant holder hanging in Janet and Chrissy's apartment. My friend said her cousin tried to ...
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai? You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; You smile a ...
The snow floats down upon us, mingled with rain . . . It eddies around pale lilac lamps, and falls ...
I. Moonlight silvers the tops of trees, Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall And through the evening fall, Clearly, as ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your ...
IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng, Your heavy loss deplore; Now, half extinct your powers of song, Sweet Echo ...
YE Irish lords, ye knights an' squires, Wha represent our brughs an' shires, An' doucely manage our affairs In parliament, ...
THE WIND blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun's departing beam Look'd on the fading yellow woods, That ...
HAS auld Kilmarnock seen the deil? Or great Mackinlay 1 thrawn his heel? Or Robertson 2 again grown weel, To ...
FLOW gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary's ...
Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor, Most gracious singer of high poems ! where The dancers will break footing, ...
Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor, Most gracious singer of high poems! where The dancers will break footing, from ...
Simple things are lovely things. Rain, dropping from the eaves, Is molten silver streaming down, Upon the fallen leaves. The ...
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