Eclogue (John Crowe Ransom Poems)
JANE SNEED BEGAN IT: My poor John, alas,Ten years ago, pretty it was in a ringTo run as boys and ...
JANE SNEED BEGAN IT: My poor John, alas,Ten years ago, pretty it was in a ringTo run as boys and ...
Hallo ye, my fellows! arise and advance,See the white-crested waves how they stamp and they dance!High over the reef there ...
Jackey Jackey gallops on a horse like a swallowWhere the carbines bark and the blackboys hollo.When the traps give chase ...
The firetail tells the boys when nests are nighAnd tweets and flies from every passer-bye.The yellowhammer never makes a noiseBut ...
Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood—Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey:He said, "I would not go ...
" Well ! "" Here we are ! "" You call to mind the clown who used to speak, His ...
… Fall, Hercules, from heaven, in tempests hurl'd, And cleanse this beastly stable of the world; Or ...
O brown are the moors in the grey morning lyingWhere the west wind comes singing o'er wide sea and plain;O ...
On the idle hill of summer, Sleepy with the flow of streams, Far I hear the steady drummer Drumming like ...
The winds out of the west land blow, My friends have breathed them there; Warm with the blood of lads ...
On the idle hill of summer, Sleepy with the flow of streams, Far I hear the steady drummer Drumming like ...
Part I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering ...
When midnight comes a host of dogs and men Go out and track the badger to his den, And put ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
Poets with whom I learned my trade. Companions of the Cheshire Cheese, Here's an old story I've remade, Imagining 'twould ...
I. WINTER IN NORTHUMBERLAND OUTSIDE the garden The wet skies harden; The gates are barred on The summer side: "Shut ...
eipate toi basilei, xamai pese daidalos aula. ouketi PHoibos exei kaluban, ou mantida daphnen, ou pagan laleousan . apesbeto kai ...
(To Robert Graves) I Here I'm sitting in the gloom Of my quiet attic room. France goes rolling all around, ...
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, ...
At first I thought there was a superfine Persuasion in his face; but the free flow That filled it when ...
Like the vain curlings of the watery maze, Which in smooth streams a sinking weight does raise, So Man, declining ...
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