The Muses Threnodie: Eighth Muse (Henry Adamson Poems)
What blooming banks, sweet Earn, or fairest Tay,Or Almond doth embrace! These many a dayWe haunted, where our pleasant pastoralsWe ...
What blooming banks, sweet Earn, or fairest Tay,Or Almond doth embrace! These many a dayWe haunted, where our pleasant pastoralsWe ...
A PIOUS magistrate! sound his praise throughoutThe wondering churches. Who shall henceforth doubtThat the long-wished millennium draweth nigh?Sin in high ...
Phoebus, arise! And paint the sable skies With azure, white, and red: Rouse Memnon's mother from her Tithon's bed That ...
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