Collected Poems (1994) (Anne Barbara Ridler Poems)
Lying in bed this morning, just a yearSince our first days, I was trying to assess -Against my natural caution ...
Lying in bed this morning, just a yearSince our first days, I was trying to assess -Against my natural caution ...
When was the redman's summer?When the roseHung its first banner out? When the gray rock,Or the brown heath, the radiant ...
Evil-eyed loiterer, pilgrim of fashion, Sunless and hard is thy frost-bitten heart;Scoffing at nature's affection and passion, Till thou hast made the ...
To the MORNING STAR.Hail lovely loiterer that greet'st my eyes,Thou sweet precursor of the merry morn,At sight of whom she ...
. Fast, in its prison-walls of earth, Awaits the mould of baked clay. Up, comrades, up, and aid the ...
There is a power whose inspiration fills Nature's fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought, Like airy dew ere any drop distils, ...
First, London, for its myriads; for its height, Manhattan heaped in towering stalagmite; But Paris for the smoothness of the ...
See you the towers, that, gray and old,Frown through the sunlight's liquid gold, Steep sternly fronting steep?The Hellespont beneath them ...
EdwardHist, William! hist! what means that air so gay?Thy looks, thy dress, bespeak some holiday:Thy hat is brushed; thy hands, ...
"WHEN winter's cold tempests and snows are no more, Green meadows and brown-furrowed fields reappearing, The fishermen hauling their ...
ITHE LOST MAGIC WHITE in her snowy stone, and cold, With azure veins and shining arms, Pygmalion doth his bride ...
The curtain falls—closed is the Drama's page:Why lingers Beatrice upon the stage?Away, illusion!—this is not thy sphere—The sigh is faithful, ...
It is the same clear dazzling scene, Perhaps the grass is scarce as green; Perhaps the river's troubled voice, Does ...
Alone, obscure, without a friend, A cheerless, solitary thing,Why seeks, my Lloyd, the stranger out? What offering can the stranger ...
'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock town The golden broom should blow; The hawthorn sprinkled up and down Should charge ...
'Tis time, I think, by Wenlock town The golden broom should blow; The hawthorn sprinkled up and down Should charge ...
An imaginary composer.] I. Hist, but a word, fair and soft! Forth and be judged, Master Hugues! Answer the question ...
See you the towers, that, gray and old, Frown through the sunlight's liquid gold, Steep sternly fronting steep? The Hellespont ...
Fast, in its prison-walls of earth, Awaits the mould of baked clay. Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth The ...
There is a power whose inspiration fills Nature's fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought, Like airy dew ere any drop distils, ...
First, London, for its myriads; for its height, Manhattan heaped in towering stalagmite; But Paris for the smoothness of the ...
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