The Highlanders: Part IV (Anne MacVicar Grant Poems)
NOW Winter pours his terrors o'er the plain,And icy barriers close the wild domain,From the fierce North the sweeping blast ...
NOW Winter pours his terrors o'er the plain,And icy barriers close the wild domain,From the fierce North the sweeping blast ...
Swept from his fleet upon that fatal night When great Poseidon's sudden-veering wrath Scattered the happy homeward-floating Greeks Like foam-flakes ...
THE holy bell, untouched by human hands, Clanged suddenly, and tolled with solemn knell.Between the massive, blazoned temple-doors,Thrown wide, to ...
A TALE. ON her lov'd infant, as it sleeping lies,Ah! little does the tender mother know,While fondly gazing with delighted ...
Approaching now the end of his abode On earth, Consalvo lay; complaining once, Of his hard fate, but now quite ...
The silver horn of the advancing tide Had ploughed its highest furrow in the sand, And was retiring. Noon, with ...
In the garden yonder of yews and death,There sojournethA man who toils, and has toiled for aye.Digging the dried-up ground ...
I looked far in the future; down the dimEcholess avenue of silent years,And through the cold grey haze of Time ...
HOW lightly men can love, how soon forget! I said--yet some there be not false or fickle: For one, the ...
Give me light, God irrefutable, Inexplicable architect of the universe, Creator of fate and recognition, Tempest of breath, central ability, ...
CHORUSSince they are crumbling, turn on the radio,The streets, dogs, god's all assetsEPISODELoosens out of our hands, spills out everythingWe ...
There was a boy — not above childish fears — With steps that faltered now and straining ears, Timid, irresolute, ...
When I too long have looked upon your face,Wherein for me a brightness unobscuredSave by the mists of brightness has ...
A Field of Stubble, lying sere Beneath the second Sun -- Its Toils to Brindled People thrust -- Its Triumphs ...
There was a boy -- not above childish fears -- With steps that faltered now and straining ears, Timid, irresolute, ...
What may the woman labour to confess? There is about her mouth a nervous twitch. 'Tis something to be told, ...
What may the woman labour to confess? There is about her mouth a nervous twitch. 'Tis something to be told, ...
No more of talk where God or Angel guest With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd, To sit indulgent, ...
So spake the Son of God; and Satan stood A while as mute, confounded what to say, What to reply, ...
When I too long have looked upon your face, Wherein for me a brightness unobscured Save by the mists of ...
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