An Elegy upon the Death of the Dean of St. Paul’s, Dr. John (Thomas Carew Poems)
Can we not force from widow'd poetry, Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegy To crown thy hearse? Why ...
Can we not force from widow'd poetry, Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegy To crown thy hearse? Why ...
The Lord receives his highest praise From humble minds and hearts sincere; While all the loud professor says Offends the ...
THE PROLOGUE. WHEN folk had laughed all at this nice case Of Absolon and Hendy Nicholas, Diverse folk diversely they ...
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, ...
A green and silent spot, amid the hills, A small and silent dell ! O'er stiller place No singing sky-lark ...
I've quenched my lamp, I struck it in that start Which every limb convulsed, I heard it fall The crash ...
Indeed I live in the dark ages! A guileless word is an absurdity. A smooth forehead betokens A hard heart. ...
Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth did'st by my side remain, Till snatcht from thence by ...
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
The conclusion is growing . . . I feel sure, my lord, this august court will entertain the plea Not ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
I. Let them fight it out, friend! things have gone too far. God must judge the couple: leave them as ...
(PETER RONSARD _loquitur_.) ``Heigho!'' yawned one day King Francis, ``Distance all value enhances! ``When a man's busy, why, leisure ``Strikes ...
I heard an echo in a hollow place. No sound of blowing wind or drifting sand, some ancient voice was ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura ch? la diritta via era smarrita . ...
O Rose! who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet; But pale, and hard, and ...
Thou fair hair'd angel of the evening, Now, while the sun rests on the mountains light, Thy bright torch of ...
Nought loves another as itself Nor venerates another so. Nor is it possible to Thought A greater than itself to ...
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