The City Of Fear (Gilbert Frankau Poems)
This was a city once: women lived here;Their voices were low to their lovers, o'nights by the murmuring waters;Their hands ...
This was a city once: women lived here;Their voices were low to their lovers, o'nights by the murmuring waters;Their hands ...
Two years have elapsed since the verse of S. W. Met your bright eyes like a fanciful gem;With that kind of ...
I. The quickening East climbs to yon star, That, cradled, rocks herself in morn; The liquid silver broad'ning far Dawn drencheth cliff, holt, down ...
DECEMBER 15, 1874I SUPPOSE it's myself that you're making allusion toAnd bringing the sense of dismay and confusion to.Of course ...
1.In the Grass: Halt by the WaysideIn my tired, helpless bodyI feel my sunk heart ache;But suddenly, loudlyThe far, the ...
A dark, tempestuous night; the stars shut in With shrouds of fog; an inky, jet-black blotThe firmament; and where the moon ...
Light!Innumerable ions of light,Kindling, irradiating,All to their foci tending…Light that jingles like anklet chainsOn bevies of little lithe twinkling feet,Or ...
The battery grides and jingles,Mile succeeds to mile;Shaking the noonday sunshineThe guns lunge out awhile,And then are still awhile.We amble ...
Tier over tier they rise to dizzy height-- The cells of men who know the world no more. Silence intense from ceiling ...
She's morning's residence. She's as clear as she isinvisible, as tranquil as forgotten lands.Her hair is golden, her smooth windows ...
"Now I often sit at Watty's, when the night is very nearWith a head that's full of jingles - and ...
1 Who will honor the city without a name If so many are dead and others pan gold Or sell ...
THE cock has crow'd an hour ago, 'Tis time we now dull sleep forego; Tir'd Nature is by sleep redress'd, ...
Ha, tott'ring Johny, strut and boast, But think of what your feathers cost; Your crowing days are short at most, ...
Hark! I hear the sound of singing,And of sleigh-bells, gaily ringing,And the sound of steeds fast springing,Fleeting o'er the frozen ...
When the kindly hours of darkness, save for light of moon and star, Hide the picture on the signboard over ...
"Is my team ploughing, That I was used to drive And hear the harness jingle When I was man alive?" ...
The meter I had sought to find, perplexed, was ripped from books of "verse" that read like prose. I found ...
SANDBOX MINUS JOHN DILLINGER EQUALS WHAT? Often I return to the cover of Trout Fishing in America. I took the ...
Oh, I was born a lyric babe (That last word is a bore - It's only rhyme is astrolabe," Whose ...
for every wind?'s emotionless blast brings shreds of feathers with their dance of loss rotating leaves of faded rainbow-trees and ...
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