The Staircase Of Notre Dame, Paris (Dante Gabriel Rossetti Poems)
As one who, groping in a narrow stair, Hath a strong sound of bells upon his ears, Which, being at ...
As one who, groping in a narrow stair, Hath a strong sound of bells upon his ears, Which, being at ...
Sometimes she is a child within mine arms,Cowering beneath dark wings that love must chase,-With still tears showering and averted ...
The sentinelSpied from his high cliff-towered citadelThe leaping flash of guns; butere the roarSprang from its den on thedim Asian ...
Like a drunken dancer trying to catch a mate rejected by those on the sidelines moving from place to place ...
The sound of the rain starting my day sitting at the computer again Too early for light to see the ...
After the transfiguration there was a change in his manner an urgency, impatience time was suddenly short, shorter he had ...
Out the side, the edge of my vision so are many of the sources of my poetry the images out ...
When I started, a little more than a year ago, I had no idea, no thought, that I would be ...
She was running this morning early Sunday morning while we drove by on the way to church black top, black ...
Her little hand in mine at least while I could hold her as she giggled free of my grip a ...
Out of the fog of dusk she stood motionless watching in stillness the rush of human life hurtling past her ...
White knuckles on the wheel holding fast to my lane between the wiper strokes and blur of reckless drivers on ...
Over the terminal, the arms and chest of the god brightened by snow. Formerly mercury, formerly silver, surface yellowed by ...
The first of the undecoded messages read: "Popeye sits in thunder, Unthought of. From that shoebox of an apartment, From ...
a 1. Los smitten with astonishment Frightend at the hurtling bones 2. And at the surging sulphureous Perturbed Immortal mad ...
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day; The score stood four to two, with but one inning ...
Crowned, girdled, garbed and shod with light and fire, Son first-born of the morning, sovereign star! Soul nearest ours of ...
The trumpets of the four winds of the world From the ends of the earth blow battle; the night heaves, ...
I In barns we crouch, and under stacks of straw, Harking the storm that rides a hurtling legion Up the ...
He woke; the clank and racket of the train Kept time with angry throbbings in his brain. Then for a ...
I AM riding on a limited express, one of the crack trains of the nation. Hurtling across the prairie into ...
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