The Empty Purse–A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son (George Meredith Poems)
Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!Quenched youth, and is that thy ...
Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!Quenched youth, and is that thy ...
Allene, sweet sister, with the bloodOf youth yet coursing through your cheeks,I was informed, not long ago,That you had quit ...
When I died, the circulating libraryWhich I built up for Spoon River,And managed for the good of inquiring minds,Was sold ...
IN my friend's library I sit alone,Hemmed in by books. The dead and living there,Shrined in a thousand volumes rich ...
604Unto my Books-so good to turn-Far ends of tired Days-It half endears the Abstinence-And Pain-is missed-in Praise-As Flavors-cheer Retarded GuestsWith ...
History, biography, adventure found in the pages I read how long I wanted to linger in reading the names on ...
Paper, ink and thought Fiction and reality Passion and purpose Poetry and prose Map and drawing Monographs and periodicals Card ...
Land in the rough By design and by tradition. A sense of place. Stone wall and lake and meadow Wood ...
Old Davis owned a solid mica mountain In Dalton that would someday make his fortune. There'd been some Boston people ...
Unto my Books -- so good to turn -- Far ends of tired Days -- It half endears the Abstinence ...
Even tonight will pass into memory's oblivion, doomed, despite an ardent reunion of once estranged yet precisely matched parts, to ...
There is a section in my library for death and another for Irish history, a few shelves for the poetry ...
Sometimes the notes are ferocious, skirmishes against the author raging along the borders of every page in tiny black script. ...
A tiger comes to mind. The twilight here Exalts the vast and busy Library And seems to set the bookshelves ...
THE LANDS OF MY CHILDHOOD 1 I am leaving the holy city of Leeds For the last time for the ...
An Englishman was Thomas Paine Who bled for liberty; But while his fight was far from vain He died in ...
A thousand books my library Contains; And all are primed, it seems to me With brains. Mine are so few ...
THERE'S Chamfort. He's a sample. Locked himself in his library with a gun, Shot off his nose and shot out ...
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The dog-star ...
When I died, the circulating library Which I built up for Spoon River, And managed for the good of inquiring ...
Shelves and stacks and shelves of skulls, a Dewey Decimal number inked on each unfurrowed forehead. Here's a skull who, ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories