THE WITNESSES (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem)
In Ocean's wide domains, Half buried in the sands, Lie skeletons in chains, With shackled feet and hands. Beyond the ...
In Ocean's wide domains, Half buried in the sands, Lie skeletons in chains, With shackled feet and hands. Beyond the ...
I do not think of you lying in the wet clay Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see You walking down ...
When a man starts out with nothing, When a man starts out with his hands Empty, but clean, When a ...
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, ...
Myself can read the Telegrams A Letter chief to me The Stock's advance and Retrograde And what the Markets say ...
AMONGST THE HIGHLY PLACED It is considered low to talk about food. The fact is: they have Already eaten. The ...
Contemplating Hell, as I once heard it, My brother Shelley found it to be a place Much like the city ...
They are building a house half a block down and I sit up here with the shades down listening to ...
There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks, and outside a large green bus swerves through ...
I. Ancestral Houses Surely among a rich man's flowering lawns, Amid the rustle of his planted hills, Life overflows without ...
1 WEAPON, shapely, naked, wan! Head from the mother's bowels drawn! Wooded flesh and metal bone! limb only one, and ...
STANDING IN EDEN 1 Poetry claimed me young on Skegness beach Before I was born I answered her cry For ...
1 TO think of time-of all that retrospection! To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward! Have you guess'd ...
The boat of the boatman Madhu is moored at the wharf of Rajgunj. It is uselessly laden with jute, and ...
Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 't is early morn: Leave me here, and when you want ...
My God, my God, what queer corner am I in? Didn't I die, blood running down the post, lungs gagging ...
Hail to thee, mountain beloved, with thy glittering purple-dyed summit! Hail to thee also, fair sun, looking so lovingly on! ...
I've never ceased to curse the day I signed A seven years' bargain for the Golden Fleece. 'Twas a bad ...
From blossoms released by the moonlight, from an aroma of exasperated love, steeped in fragrance, yellowness drifted from the lemon ...
If I were a cinnamon peeler I would ride your bed And leave the yellow bark dust On your pillow. ...
All the air conditioners now slacken their hummed carrier wave. Once again we've served our three months with remissions in ...
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