Voices From The Old World: The Famine Of 1847 (Grace Greenwood Poems)
A voice from out the Highlands,Old Scotia's mountain homes!From wild burn-side, and darksome glen,And towering steep, it comes!Is it the ...
A voice from out the Highlands,Old Scotia's mountain homes!From wild burn-side, and darksome glen,And towering steep, it comes!Is it the ...
Lady, the fairest flowers the morn disclosedAre glowing on thy bosom; while within,Thousands of clustering joys are still in bud:And ...
Be pitiful, be pitiful, Pity the weak and worn;Pity the outcast vile, Ever so lost and lorn.Pity the poor who groan beneath Poverty's ...
LEAVE now our streets, and in yon plain beholdThose pleasant Seats for the reduced and old;A merchant's gift, whose wife ...
The sea, as by some inner demon stung, Hath burst its glassy prison, and on highA thousand waves in black ...
'Twas what ye'd call a nasty night,An' 'twa''t no time to pick a fight,Th' we struck th' zone;Th' fog wuz ...
Written in the prison Infirmary, February, 1850. To a quiet land I'm steering; Steering ever, day and night;A sailor-wreck ...
1 SAUNTERING the pavement, or riding the country by-road-lo! such faces! Faces of friendship, precision, caution, suavity, ideality; The spiritual, ...
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