Best (Helen Hunt Jackson Poems)
Mother, I see you with your nursery light,Leading your babies, all in white,To their sweet rest;Christ, the Good Shepherd, carries ...
Mother, I see you with your nursery light,Leading your babies, all in white,To their sweet rest;Christ, the Good Shepherd, carries ...
The flames shall brighten and the heat increase, The winds shall drive around the worn parched heart, The voice, at times, of ...
Abstraction from all thought, all care, all love, All hatred and all sympathy; can this— This soul-annihilation—be Heaven's bliss?This, virtue's highest recompense ...
Unstable monster, formless, vast, alone,How awful in thy giant impotence!Canst thou not-now-uprear that bulk immenseAnd make a captured continent thy ...
There is a safe and secret place,Beneath the wings divine,Reserved for all the heirs of grace;O be that refuge mine!The ...
LOVE for love, and moments sweet,Lips returning kiss for kiss,Word for word, and eyes that meet;Breath for breath, and bliss ...
A Microcosm In Terza RimaI.Quiet I lay at last, and knew no moreWhether I breathed or not, so worn I ...
WHEN fallen man from Paradise was driven, Forth to a world of labour, death, and care; Still, of his native ...
Tombed in the solid night of starless space; From nearest living orb so far removed, That light, of all material ...
I will bring fire to thee.Euripides.-'Androm'.'Eiros'.Why do you call me Eiros?'Charmion'.So henceforward will you always be called. You must forget,too, ...
Hear'st thou that sound upon the window pane?Said the youth softly, as outstretched he layWhere for an hour outstretched he ...
I (_Before He Comes_) Sweet under swooning blue and mellow mist September waves of forest overflow The hills with crimson, ...
It is the story of Thompson--of Thompson, the hero of Angels.Frequently drunk was Thompson, but always polite to the stranger;Light ...
STOP mortal ! Here thy brother lies,The Poet of the Poor ;His books were rivers, woods and skies,The meadow and ...
When we are old and these rejoicing veinsAre frosty channels to a muted stream,And out of all our burning their ...
I "Percussus sum sicut foenum, et aruit cor meum." - Ps. ci Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement-pain It cannot bring ...
Nature -- the Gentlest Mother is, Impatient of no Child -- The feeblest -- or the waywardest -- Her Admonition ...
NO more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith! We ...
1 Lo d? che han detto a' dolci amici addio. - Dante Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vinci! - ...
Of all the sickly forms of verse, Commend me to the triolet. It makes bad writers somewhat worse: Of all ...
When we are old and these rejoicing veins Are frosty channels to a muted stream, And out of all our ...
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