Advice To A Raven In Russia (1812) (Joel Barlow Poems)
Black fool, why winter here? These frozen skies,Worn by your wings and deafen'd by your cries,Should warn you hence, where ...
Black fool, why winter here? These frozen skies,Worn by your wings and deafen'd by your cries,Should warn you hence, where ...
WHO has not seen the chearful Harvest HomeEnliv'ning the scorch'd field, and greeting gayThe slow decline of Autumn ? All ...
1.Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the ...
When the summer harvest was gathered in,And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin,And the ploughshare was in ...
--"Throughout the day, I walk,My path o'ershadowed by vain dreams of him." --Italian Girl's Hymn to the Virgin.Mother, gazing on thy ...
Is it because your sable hairIs folded over brows that wearAt times a too imperial air;Or is it that the ...
A solemn, tender melancholy—A soft emotion, sweet and holy;A sense of stillness and repose,O'er my worn heart and spirit flows.I ...
Bring, in this timeless grave to throw,No cypress, sombre on the snow;Snap not from the bitter yewHis leaves that live ...
"I.FOLD back the sun-bright hair; kiss the meek lids,That lie like flowers above the flower-blue eyes;Grieve not, to grieve her ...
At work within his barn since very early,Fairly tired out with toiling all the day,Upon the small bed where he ...
We passed each other, turned and stopped for half an hour, then went our way,I who make other women smile ...
HARK! the glad horn's sonorous strain,Responsive to the shouting swain,Proclaims the harvest o'er;The master of the field stands by,And views ...
GREAT God! to whom the birds for foodStill raise the expecting eye;Thou whom the raven's callow broodImplore with ceaseless cry.Father! ...
AS thou in Sion praise did'st hear,O! God, in Britain now,An altar to thy name we rear,And pay the grateful ...
Bring, in this timeless grave to throw, No cypress, sombre on the snow; Snap not from the bitter yew His ...
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless ...
I Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and ...
XLVI Bring, in this timeless grave to throw No cypress, sombre on the snow; Snap not from the bitter yew ...
Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring, Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove, Teach me more clearly of Thy ...
(With apologies to the singer of the "Song of the Banjo".) I'm a homely little bit of tin and bone; ...
If night should come and find me at my toil, When all Life's day I had, tho' faintly, wrought, And ...
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