Poverty (Caroline Maxwell Poems)
HARSH Poverty! why dost thou lourOn this my dwelling place?Why cast on me thy looks so sour?Have I not always ...
HARSH Poverty! why dost thou lourOn this my dwelling place?Why cast on me thy looks so sour?Have I not always ...
Things of high import sound I in thine ears,Dear child, though now thou may'st not feel their power;But hoard them ...
Fair flower of Christmas - white chrysanthemum!I mark thy blossoms wave, thy fragile formBend to the breeze, yet brave the ...
* * * * *Fitz Eustace. -"The seagull flutters to her nestThe fishermen are gone to rest,A sheltering roof will ...
Now the golden Morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil cheek and whisper soft She wooes the tardy Spring: ...
Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost Candies the ...
ADVERTISEMENT "The grand army of the Turks, (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into ...
THOU whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deckt in silken stole, Grave these ...
DAUGHTER of Chaos' doting years, Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fears, Whether thy airy, insubstantial shade (The rights of ...
How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same; The village ...
THOU whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deckt in silken stole, Grave these ...
'TIS Friendship's pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. ...
SCOTS, wha hae wi' WALLACE bled, Scots, wham BRUCE has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to Victorie! ...
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! ...
'Love is all Unsatisfied That cannot take the whole Body and soul'; And that is what Jane said. 'Take the ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier, As ...
Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not, When I against my self with thee partake? Do I not ...
Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not, When I against myself with thee partake? Do I not think ...
Yes, I will go, where circling whirlwinds rise, Where threat'ning clouds in sable grandeur lour; Where the blast yells, the ...
Where antique woods o'er-hang the mountains's crest, And mid-day glooms in solemn silence lour; Philosophy, go seek a lonely bow'r, ...
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