Metabole. (Alfred Castner King Poems)
AN APOSTROPHE TO THE MOON.O, silvery moon, fair mistress of the night,Thou mellow, ever vaccilating orb,How many eons of unmeasured ...
AN APOSTROPHE TO THE MOON.O, silvery moon, fair mistress of the night,Thou mellow, ever vaccilating orb,How many eons of unmeasured ...
The maid begins.-Where fam'd Coaspes lavesRich Elam's borders with his sacred waves,Along the fields their tents the shepherds spread,By them ...
Of course, the familiar rustling of programs, My hair mussed from behind by a grand gesture Of mink. A little ...
The Way to know the Bobolink From every other Bird Precisely as the Joy of him -- Obliged to be ...
Hidden by old age awhile In masker's cloak and hood, Each hating what the other loved, Face to face we ...
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