To The Chief Musician Upon Nabla: A Tyndallic Ode (James Clerk Maxwell Poems)
I. I come from fields of fractured ice, Whose wounds are cured by squeezing, Melting they cool, but in a trice, Get warm again ...
I. I come from fields of fractured ice, Whose wounds are cured by squeezing, Melting they cool, but in a trice, Get warm again ...
Lord, confound this surly sister, Blight her brow ...
Comme dans l'?ponge il y a dans l'orange une aspiration ? reprendre contenance apr?s avoir subi l'?preuve de l'expression. Mais ...
That's him!! The authentic, identical beast! The Unionist tiger, full brother to "Sosh"!I know by the prowl of him.Hark to ...
Now when, beneath the riotous drinking,The witches found the liquor sinkingSo low their ladles couldn't reach it,The blacksmith with a ...
I think my country needs my vote,I know it doesn't need my throat, My lungs and larynx, too;And so I ...
The things that I can't have I want And what I have seems second-rate, The things I want to do ...
I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, lived ...
I cannot flap a flag Or beat a drum; Behind the mob I lag With larynx dumb; Alas! I fear ...
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