Bereavement of the Fields (William Wilfred Campbell Poems)
1 Soft fall the February snows, and soft2 Falls on my heart the snow of wintry pain;3 For never more, ...
1 Soft fall the February snows, and soft2 Falls on my heart the snow of wintry pain;3 For never more, ...
LET be what is: why should we strive and wrestleWith awkward skill against a subtle doubt?Or pin a mystery 'neath ...
And Zetland where, betimes, some ruthless wightScaling the scaur, in sport the nests despoilsOf auk or gull; they, crowding clamorous ...
Remembrance, what wilt thou with me? The yearDeclined; in the still air the thrush piped clear,The languid sunshine did incurious ...
Yet to the wondrous St. Peter's, and yet to the solemn Rotunda, Mingling with heroes and gods, yet to the ...
THE MOTHER.There was a worthy, but a simple Pair,Who nursed a Daughter, fairest of the fair:Sons they had lost, and ...
THOU couldst not look on me and live: so runs The mortal legend -- thou that couldst not live Nor ...
Within the Jersey City shedThe engine coughs and shakes its head,The smoke, a plume of red and white,Waves madly in ...
Kilmore cares not who comes nigh.But, with a calm, incurious eye,She sees the swift cars speeding by, Then turns again ...
Enter the dream-house, brothers and sisters, leavingYour debts asleep, your history at the door:This is the home for heroes, and ...
Where star-cold and the dread of spacein icy silence bind the mainI feel but vastness on my face,I sit, a ...
All things must fade. There is for cities tall The same tomorrow as for daffodils: Time's wind, that casts the ...
Now spring the living herbs, profusely wild,O'er all the deep green earth, beyond the powerOf botanist to number ...
(For Edward J. Wheeler) Within the Jersey City shed The engine coughs and shakes its head, The smoke, a plume ...
My black hills have never seen the sun rising, Eternally they look north towards Armagh. Lot's wife would not be ...
Horace, BK. V., Ode 3 "Regulus"-- A Diversity of Creatures There are whose study is of smells, And to attentive ...
Come, Anthea, let us two Go to feast, as others do: Tarts and custards, creams and cakes, Are the junkets ...
In the third-class seat sat the journeying boy, And the roof-lamp's oily flame Played down on his listless form and ...
Young Mary, loitering once her garden way, Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day, As wine that blushes ...
I am like, They tell me, my dear father. Broader brows Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Of delicate ...
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