A Job O’ Work (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
I ain't no glutton for work, said Bill, "though I done my whack in my day,An' I'd never say 'No' ...
I ain't no glutton for work, said Bill, "though I done my whack in my day,An' I'd never say 'No' ...
Welcome, wild North-easter.Shame it is to seeOdes to every zephyr;Ne'er a verse to thee.Welcome, black North-easter!O'er the German foam;O'er the ...
Other hosses takes an interest in a colt that's young and small.The way they act you'd think they'd never seen ...
There's a new grace up on Boot Hill, where we've planted Rowdy Pete;He died one evenin', sudden, with his leather ...
This man is busy saddlin' up a skeery half broke colt.It is too soon yet to trust him and he ...
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble; His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves; The gale, it plies the saplings double, ...
Not all flowers have souls,But roses, for they are memories of lovers,And lilies, their prayers,Azaleas; who give themselves to the ...
GREEN bud-stars spangle The dead, black tree; Bloom's in a tangle On holt and lea: Now elm-boughs shade me, Now ...
He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago, And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.', ...
Melibæus. WElcome fair Nymphs, most welcome to this shade, Distemp'ring Heats do now the Plains invade: But you may sit, ...
Welcome, wild Northeaster! Shame it is to see Odes to every zephyr; Ne'er a verse to thee. Welcome, black Northeaster! ...
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble; His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves; The gale, it plies the saplings double, ...
Achievin' sech distinction with his moddel tabble dote Ez to make his Red Hoss Mountain restauraw a place uv note, ...
The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way Ez if it waited for a child to jine it ...
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 't is early morn: Leave me here, and when you want ...
Once more the gate behind me falls; Once more before my face I see the moulder'd Abbey-walls, That stand within ...
Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm; And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands; Beyond, red ...
AS when the hunt by holt and field Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our ...
It came from the prison this morning, Close-twisted, neat-lettered, and flat; It lies the hall doorway adorning, A very good ...
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