I Never Yet Heard Music (Archbishop William Alexander Poems)
I never yet heard music, howe'er sweet,Never saw flower or light, ocean or hill,But a quick thrill of something finer ...
I never yet heard music, howe'er sweet,Never saw flower or light, ocean or hill,But a quick thrill of something finer ...
Here Pushkin's endless exile has begun,And Lermontov's exile turned out fatal,The mountain grass has a smell so sweet and gentle,And ...
But listen, I am warning youI'm living for the very last time.Not as a swallow, nor a maple,Not as a ...
To be put on the train and kissed and given my ticket, Then the station slid backward, the shops and ...
They are rhymes rudely strung with intent less Of sound than of words, In lands where bright blossoms are scentless, ...
I How should I seek to make a song for thee When all my music is to moan thy name? ...
Come, my darling, let us dance To the moon that beckons us To dissolve our love in trance Heedless of ...
I How should I seek to make a song for thee When all my music is to moan thy name? ...
Come, my darling, let us dance To the moon that beckons us To dissolve our love in trance Heedless of ...
1 They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every ...
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! The tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurled Above the tide of ...
Would 'any woman' find me difficult to live with? My tastes are simple: space for several thousand books, The smoke ...
I If nature is life, nature is death: It is winter as it is spring: Confusion is variety, variety And ...
Silence is a great blue bell Swinging and ringing, tinkling and singing, In measure's pleasure, and in the supple symmetry ...
The poem of the mind in the act of finding What will suffice. It has not always had To find: ...
I was a gulp of high air - a bird breathing in, a black dot on blue paper, a privileged ...
1 You, once a belle in Shreveport, with henna-colored hair, skin like a peachbud, still have your dresses copied from ...
I Partly to think, more to be left alone, George Annandale said something to his friends- A word or two, ...
Out of lemon flowers loosed on the moonlight, love's lashed and insatiable essences, sodden with fragrance, the lemon tree's yellow ...
So spake the Son of God; and Satan stood A while as mute, confounded what to say, What to reply, ...
Earth and water without form, change, or pause: as if the third day had not come, this calm norm of ...
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