Hermann And Dorothea – II. Terpsichore (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Poems)
HERMANN.THEN when into the room the well-built son made his entry,Straightway with piercing glances the minister eyed him intently,And with ...
HERMANN.THEN when into the room the well-built son made his entry,Straightway with piercing glances the minister eyed him intently,And with ...
When Friends or Fortune frown on Mira's Lay,Or gloomy Vapours hide the Lamp of Day;With low'ring Forehead, and with aching ...
THE tale of the Count our glad song shall recordWho had in this castle his dwelling,Where now ye are feasting ...
Aeolian. Gratis. Great thunderer, half-ton infant of miraclesTorn free of charge from the universe by my mother's will.You must have ...
Folks is talkin' 'bout de money, 'bout de silvah an' de gold; All de time de season 's changin' an' de ...
(Interlocutors--Mr. Lear and Mr. and Mrs. Symonds.) Edwardus--What makes you look so black, so glum, so cross? ...
If ever the time comes for me to dieTake a white birchwood table out there to the river,Set it up ...
To make a perfect fish menu,The witches found they had to placeUpon this alcoholic baseGreat stacks of food and spices ...
When, darkly brooding on this Modern Age, The journalist with his marketable woes Fills up once more the inevitable page ...
broke his bank, totaled his car and slept withhis wife.of course, everybody was sleeping with hiswife but a nicer guy ...
I am the nigger.Singer of songs,Dancer. . .Softer than fluff of cotton. . .Harder than dark earthRoads beaten in the ...
When, darkly brooding on this Modern Age, The journalist with his marketable woes Fills up once more the inevitable page ...
THE tale of the Count our glad song shall record Who had in this castle his dwelling, Where now ye ...
The last pose flickered, failed. The screen's dead white Glared in a sudden flooding of harsh light Stabbing the eyes; ...
I was Mojeska's leading man And famous parts I used to play, But now I do the best I can ...
I WAS born on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of ...
Not every wino is a Holy Man. Oh, but some of them are. I love those who've learned to sit ...
Out of burlap sacks, out of bearing butter, Out of black bean and wet slate bread, Out of the acids ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories