England (Grace Ellery Channing-Stetson Poems)
Who comes to England not to learn The love for her his fathers bore, Breathing her air, can still return ...
Who comes to England not to learn The love for her his fathers bore, Breathing her air, can still return ...
WITHOUT the squares of misted pane,I saw the wan autumnal rain,And heard, o'er tufts of churchyard ...
When the hot summer daylight is dyin', And the mist through the valley has rolled,And the soft velvet clouds ter the ...
OSMOTAR THE BRIDE-ADVISERNow the bride must be instructed,Who will teach the Maid of Beauty,Who instruct the Rainbow-daughter?Osmotar, the wisdom-maiden,Kalew's fair ...
TO THE QUEENLADY and Queen, for whom our laurels twine, Upon whose head the glories of our land ...
Now hath the summer reached her golden close,And, lost amid her corn-fields, bright of soul,Scarcely perceives from her divine reposeHow ...
'Twas a brave old spot, and deep was the shadeBy the fast-locked boughs of the elm-trees made,Where the sun scarce ...
And when, at lastEscaped,-so many a green slope built on slopeBetwixt me and the enemy's house behind,I dared to rest, ...
Come for the prizesAll are allotted, Leaving the ranks ofCut flowers and potted, ...
Across the sea the swift sad message dartsAnd beats with sudden pang against our hearts.Under the elm-trees in his homestead ...
IGrim and hungry both, we often talked together In an old suburban attic - remember? - just we two, While ...
White haze glimmered on the hills, The vales were parched and dry, And glaringly the burning sun Coursed in the ...
Again the warm bare earth, the noonThat hangs upon her healing scars,The midnight round, the great red moon,The mother with ...
A moment the wild swallows like a flight Of withered gust-caught leaves, serenely high, Toss in the windrack ...
There is a hill in England, Green fields and a school I know,Where the balls fly fast in summer, And ...
As a pale phantom with a lamp Ascends some ruin's haunted stair, So glides the moon along the damp Mysterious ...
I have been reading Pomfret's "Choice" this spring, A pretty kind of--sort of--kind of thing, Not much a verse, and ...
Dear to my heart are the ancestral dwellings of America, Dearer than if they were haunted by ghosts of royal ...
Gaily into Ruislip Gardens Runs the red electric train, With a thousand Ta's and Pardon's Daintily alights Elaine; Hurries down ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
I. I DREAMED of forest alleys fair And fields of gray-flowered grass, Where by the yellow summer moon My Jenny ...
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