Change (Clark Ashton Smith Poems)
For pity, not for love(Because you loved me so)With undesirous lipsI kissed you long ago.You were not over-fair;And surely it ...
For pity, not for love(Because you loved me so)With undesirous lipsI kissed you long ago.You were not over-fair;And surely it ...
When reeds are dead and straw to thatch the marshes, And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind Like Ag?d warriors ...
There will be a rusty gun on the wall, sweetheart, The rifle grooves curling with flakes of rust. A spider ...
I ask but one thing of you, only one, That always you will be my dream of you; That never ...
Welcome, my old friend, Welcome to a foreign fireside, While the sullen gales of autumn Shake the windows. The ungrateful ...
To-night I tread the unsubstantial way That looms before me, as the thundering night Falls on the ocean: I must ...
To-night I tread the unsubstantial way That looms before me, as the thundering night Falls on the ocean: I must ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
As evening falls, And the yellow lights leap one by one Along high walls; And along black streets that glisten ...
Some may have blamed you that you took away The verses that could move them on the day When, the ...
There was a green branch hung with many a bell When her own people ruled this tragic Eire; And from ...
So vast the tide of Love within me surging, It overflows like some stupendous sea, The confines of the Present ...
"Courage!" he said, and pointed toward the land, "This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon." In the afternoon they ...
There is a power whose inspiration fills Nature's fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought, Like airy dew ere any drop distils, ...
Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me; I've got to watch the bannock bake -- ...
THERE will be a rusty gun on the wall, sweetheart, The rifle grooves curling with flakes of rust. A spider ...
GOLD of a ripe oat straw, gold of a southwest moon, Canada thistle blue and flimmering larkspur blue, Tomatoes shining ...
Come let us watch the sun go down and walk in twilight through the orchard's green. Does it not seem ...
Now on the hill The fitful wind is so still That never a wimpling mist uplifts, Nor a trembling leaf ...
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes, And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind Like aged ...
(In Memoriam.) They trod the streets and squares where now I tread, With weary hearts, a little while ago; When, ...
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