An American (Rudyard Kipling Poem)
If the Led Striker call it a strike, Or the papers call it a war, They know not much what ...
If the Led Striker call it a strike, Or the papers call it a war, They know not much what ...
When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before ...
In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse The holy incantation of a verse; But when that men have both well ...
Now the golden Morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil cheek and whisper soft She wooes the tardy Spring: ...
Recite the loves of Narva and Mored The priest of Chalma's triple idol said. High from the ground the youthful ...
The Spirit breathes upon the word, And brings the truth to sight; Precepts and promises afford A sanctifying light. A ...
"Lord, being dark," I said, "I cannot bear The further touch of earth, the scented air; Lord, being dark, forewilled ...
This is a day of happiness, sweet peace, And heavenly sunshine; upon which conven'd In full assembly fair, once more ...
There should be no despair for you While nightly stars are burning, While evening pours its silent dew And sunshine ...
The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war ...
The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war ...
REVERED defender of beauteous Stuart, Of Stuart, a name once respected; A name, which to love was the mark of ...
THE SMILING Spring comes in rejoicing, And surly Winter grimly flies; Now crystal clear are the falling waters, And bonie ...
SING on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, ...
'Tis hard to say, if greater Want of Skill Appear in Writing or in Judging ill, But, of the two, ...
He said, and pass'd with sad presaging heart To seek his spouse, his soul's far dearer part; At home he ...
Color of lemon, mango, peach, These storybook villas Still dream behind Shutters, thier balconies Fine as hand- Made lace, or ...
The engine is killing the track, the track is silver, It stretches into the distance. It will be eaten nevertheless. ...
Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough of dark becoming where it cannot be. So much both for the soil ...
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn, Or of the Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee unblam'd? since God ...
Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine Following, above the Olympian hill ...
Rain filled the streets once a year, rising almost to door and window sills, battering walls and roofs until it ...
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