Macaulay’s New Zealander. (James Brunton Stephens Poems)
IT little profits that, an idle man,On this worn arch, in sight of wasted halls,I mope, a solitary pelican,And glower ...
IT little profits that, an idle man,On this worn arch, in sight of wasted halls,I mope, a solitary pelican,And glower ...
"Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds,O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon,There is not nothing, no, no, ...
These lovers' inklings which our loves enmesh,Lost to the cunning and dimensional eye,Though tenemented in the selves we see,Not more ...
The quake last night was nothing personal,you told me this morning. I think one always wonders,unless, of course, something is ...
(for matt - 15) in the first seven years you choose your howdah having by then bare inklings of a ...
These are outsiders, always. These stars- these iron inklings of an Irish January, whose light happened thousands of years before ...
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