Clifton Grove (Henry Kirke White Poems)
Lo! in the west, fast fades the lingering light,And day's last vestige takes its silent flight.No more is heard the ...
Lo! in the west, fast fades the lingering light,And day's last vestige takes its silent flight.No more is heard the ...
IA heap of bare and splintery cragsTumbled about by lightning and frost,With rifts and chasms and storm-bleached jags,That wait and ...
O days endeared to every Muse,When nobody had any Views,Nor, while the cloudscape of his mindBy every breeze was new ...
LINES, Inscribed to an amiable, and affectionate Mother, upon the Death of her eldest Son, who fell a victim to ...
Lines, Inscribed to an amiable, and affectionate Mother, upon the Death of her eldest Son, who fell a victim to ...
O who has not felt his gay heart beat with gladness, As forth he has wandered some morning in May? It drives ...
IWhen I go forth to greet the glad-faced Spring, Just at the time of opening apple-buds,When brooks are laughing, winds are ...
The Beautiful City! ForeverIts rapturous praises resound;We fain would behold it-- but neverA glimpse of its dory is found:We slacken ...
Thou pulse of hotness, who, with reedlike breast,Makest meridian music, long and loud,Accentuating summer!—Dost thy bestTo make the sunbeams fiercer, ...
Wise men I hold those rakes of old Who, as we read in antique story,When lyres were struck and wine was ...
TWO craggy slopes, sheer down on either hand, Fall to a cleft, dark and confused with pines. Out of their ...
Me since your fair ambition bowsFeodary to those gracious brows,Is nothing mine will not confessYour sovran sweet rapaciousness?Though use to ...
Spring is a flirt. Unexpectedly gleaming Over the shoulder of some far blue hill.We glimpse the blue eyes of her, ...
As the shifting sands of the desert Are born by the simoon's wrath,And in wanton and fleet confusion, Are strewn ...
This house of flesh and boneWhich he and ITogether occupyTogether, yet aloneMay not belong to me,And I may be the ...
The nearest Dream recedes -- unrealized -- The Heaven we chase, Like the June Bee -- before the School Boy, ...
I am like, They tell me, my dear father. Broader brows Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Of delicate ...
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