Magdalen Walks (Burnett A. Ward Poems)
Cloying her lips as the honeycomb, smooth are the words of her mouth,But her feet in the paths of the ...
Cloying her lips as the honeycomb, smooth are the words of her mouth,But her feet in the paths of the ...
Bees build around red liver, Ants build around black bone. It has begun: the tearing, the trampling on silks, It ...
How often our hopes have been givenTo things that but mockeries be,As the hills that seem touching on heavenAre just ...
Here a gentle poet lies, Hurt to death by stinging flies. Hush thy laughter, whisper low. He hath more joy ...
Black dreams; the pale and sorrowful desireWhose eyes have looked on Lethe and have seen,Deep in the sliding ebon tide ...
Down through the tomb's inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: the ...
Words smoother than butter words softer than oil sweeter than honey, drippings of the honeycomb So are your words, Your ...
THE PROLOGUE. THE Cook of London, while the Reeve thus spake, For joy he laugh'd and clapp'd him on the ...
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself." (David, Psalms 50.21) ['Will sprawl, now that the heat ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
I Between extremities Man runs his course; A brand, or flaming breath. Comes to destroy All those antinomies Of day ...
Kneel down, fair Love, and fill thyself with tears, Girdle thyself with sighing for a girth Upon the sides of ...
I knew three sisters,--all were sweet; Wishful to wed was I, And wondered which would mostly meet The matrimonial tie. ...
When I have come with happy heart to sixty years and ten, I'll buy a boat and sail away upon ...
JESUS emptied the devils of one man into forty hogs and the hogs took the edge of a high rock ...
BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull in the tall grass ...
Somebody is shooting at something in our town -- A dull pom, pom in the Sunday street. Jealousy can open ...
THE moon is now an opening flower, The sky a cliff of blue. The moon is now a silver rose; ...
Let not our town be large, remembering That little Athens was the Muses' home, That Oxford rules the heart of ...
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