The Pennsylvania (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
PreludeI sing the Pilgrim of a softer climeAnd milder speech than those brave men's who broughtTo the ice and iron ...
PreludeI sing the Pilgrim of a softer climeAnd milder speech than those brave men's who broughtTo the ice and iron ...
"Who curseth Sorrow knows her not at all.Dark matrix she, from which the human soulHas its last birth; whence, with ...
I Clad on with glowing beauty and the peace, Benign, of calm maturity, she stands Among her meadows and her orchard-lands, And on her ...
A calm white face, black eyes serene,Dark tresses braided in a coronal,Red lips pressed close till scarce the red is ...
Against too many writers of science fictionWhy did you lure us on like this,Light-year on light-year, through the abyss,Building (as ...
When the wine-cup at the lip Slants its sparkling fire, O'er its level, while you sip, Have you marked the finger-tip Of the god ...
Why the warning finger-tipPressed forever on thy lip?"To remind the pilgrim SoundThat it moves on holy ground,In a breathing-space to ...
STILL deep into the West I gazed; the light Clear, spiritual, tranquil as a bird Wide-winged that soars on the ...
Wouldn't you say,Wouldn't you say: one day,With a little more time or a little more patience, one mightDisentangle for separate, ...
As we pass by the roses,Into your finger-tipBruise you the thorn.Quick at the prick you start,Crying, "Alas, the smart!Farewell, my ...
Against too many writers of science fiction Why did you lure us on like this, Light-year on light-year, through the ...
A middle-northern March, now as always- gusts from the South broken against cold winds- but from under, as if a ...
Wouldn't you say, Wouldn't you say: one day, With a little more time or a little more patience, one might ...
AGAINST THE GRAIN "Oxford be silent, I this truth must write Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite." - William ...
What would I choose to see when I To this bright earth shall bid good-bye? When fades forever from my ...
I wish that I could understand The moving marvel of my Hand; I watch my fingers turn and twist, The ...
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