10. The Ronalds of the Bennals (Robert Burns Poem)
IN Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men, And proper young lasses and a', man; But ken ye the ...
IN Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men, And proper young lasses and a', man; But ken ye the ...
LEAVE me a little while alone, Here at his grave that still is strown With crumbling flower and wreath; The ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
The lamplit page is turned, the dream forgotten; The music changes tone, you wake, remember Deep worlds you lived before,-deep ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on ...
All lovely things will have an ending, All lovely things will fade and die, And youth, that's now so bravely ...
We are sending you, dear flowers Forth alone to die, Where your gentle sisters may not weep O'er the cold ...
Under Mirabeau Bridge runs the Seine And our loves Must I remember them Joy came always after pain Let arriving ...
Far from the Rappahannock, the silent Danube moves along toward the sea. The brown and green Nile rolls slowly Like ...
There will be thunder then. Remember me. Say ' She asked for storms.' The entire world will turn the colour ...
I don't know if you're alive or dead. Can you on earth be sought, Or only when the sunsets fade ...
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples ...
1 Faster, faster, 2 O Circe, Goddess, 3 Let the wild, thronging train 4 The bright procession 5 Of eddying ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of ...
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy ...
How he sleepeth! having drunken Weary childhood's mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures, to make room for more--- ...
THEL'S MOTTO 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? ...
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day ? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake ...
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