Late October (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
Ah, haughty hills, sardonic solitudes, What wizard touch hath, crowning you with gold, Cast Tyrian purple o'er broad-shouldered woods, And to your pride ...
Ah, haughty hills, sardonic solitudes, What wizard touch hath, crowning you with gold, Cast Tyrian purple o'er broad-shouldered woods, And to your pride ...
READING how Marco Polo cameBy bridle-path to Kanbalu,Forgotten fibres wake to flame,And smoke old memories anew . . . .For ...
O thou, who labour'st in this rugged mine,May'st thou to gold th' unpolish'd ore refine!May each dark page unfold its ...
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings, I sing. Say you, ...
I don't mind kings and dukes and things; I don't mind wigs or maces;I don't mind crowns or robes or ...
As the dark cloud passed, I in the crimson shadow of the moon viewed the square and the streets an ...
When from our ships we bounded,I heard, with fear astounded,The storm of Thorgerd's waking,From Northern vapours breaking;With flinty masses blended,Gigantic ...
I was but a half-grown boy, You were a girl-child slight. Ah, how weary you were! You had led in ...
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