My Curate’s Motor Bike (John O Brien Poems)
Before the lad invested we had comfort here indeed;Our lives were as an open book, and he who ran might ...
Before the lad invested we had comfort here indeed;Our lives were as an open book, and he who ran might ...
I At the convent doors, full of alarm She stood, like a young bird quitting its nest. Her first flight ...
My lady sat in her bower, and span From a newly plenished creel; She loved the wild sea noise that ...
ITHE white snow veils the earth's brown face, Strong frost has bound the veil in place-- Under the wide, clear, ...
When the morning board with the rests of the feast Was set, and the martial kin- The vassals in chief ...
I dreamed that the Chimaera came, A wandering angel, white with flame From some cloud's height or moonless deep, And ...
Franceline rose in the dawning gray,And her heart would dance though she knelt to pray,For her man Michel had holiday, ...
I have loved colours, and not flowers; Their motion, not the swallows wings; And wasted more than half my hours ...
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