The General Resurrection (Mary Ann Carter Poems)
I.How lovely doth the universe appear!And how refulgent shine those glorious orbsThat round the sun their evolutions make!As well as ...
I.How lovely doth the universe appear!And how refulgent shine those glorious orbsThat round the sun their evolutions make!As well as ...
O painter bold and true, lord of every flying hue,Whose immortal hand all lovely things implore,Now to thy glory set, ...
Baby dear! and shall we sever?All your ownMother is, and yours alone.Father goes; he cares not, he;Comes and now from ...
A mystic world mantled in white simarreArachne-spun with argent woof; her wedeStarred with strange crystals wrought from frozen spar,Sprent with ...
The dying sunset's slanting raysIncarnadine the soldier's deed,His sturdy countenance betraysThe bull-dog breed.Not his to shun the stubborn fight,The struggle ...
Is it illusion? or does there a spirit from perfecter ages, Here, even yet, amid loss, change, and corruption abide? ...
I. The Builders Of The PyramidO, CELESTIAL Khu-fu, ThouKing, art Osiris now.Our lives were Thine, yet were we freeTo live ...
I rose in that hushed hour before the dawnUnveils its wonder old yet ever-new,When still the night lies languidly uponThe ...
No rose that in a garden ever grew,In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine,Though buried under centuries of fineDead ...
A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran ...
I. Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And ...
1 Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And ...
Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad, when rosy limbs and sweat entwine; But rapture drowns the sense and self, ...
Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad, when rosy limbs and sweat entwine; But rapture drowns the sense and self, ...
"Lord, being dark," I said, "I cannot bear The further touch of earth, the scented air; Lord, being dark, forewilled ...
I know a village in a far-off land Where from a sunny, mountain-girdled plain With tinted walls a space on ...
Indelicate is he who loathes The aspect of his fleshy clothes, -- The flying fabric stitched on bone, The vesture ...
Awake, of Muse, the echoes of a day Long past, the ghosts of mem'ries manifold -- Youth's memories that once ...
No rose that in a garden ever grew, In Homer's or in Omar's or in mine, Though buried under centuries ...
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