The Midnight Mass (Ada Cambridge Poems)
An Incident of the French Revolution.THE light lay trembling in a silver bar Along the western borders of the ...
An Incident of the French Revolution.THE light lay trembling in a silver bar Along the western borders of the ...
By the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled,Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, ...
Glad winters on the olden farm! How raptures from those early times Commingle into fairy chimes Which gently ...
RESTLESS is the present night, Fearfully it seems to shiver, No wind there is and yet Strangely the leaves quiver. ...
Of all the names of ford and town,Hamlet and bridge and furzy down.That makes sweet music to the earBy troutful ...
GOD of the Harvest, Thou, whose sun Has ripened all the golden grain,We bless Thee for Thy bounteous store,The cup ...
SING me, thou Singer, a song of gold! Said a careworn man to me: So I sang of the ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
Above the ashes straight and tall, Through ferns with moisture dripping, I climb beneath the sandstone wall, My feet on ...
After the first astounding rush, after the weeks at the lake, the crystal, the clouds, the water lapping the rocks, ...
As you plaited the harvest bow You implicated the mellowed silence in you In wheat that does not rust But ...
When you plunged The light of Tuscany wavered And swung through the pool From top to bottom. I loved your ...
It was a fat-tyred 4WD utility hard back, the sort of ute you'd expect a contractor to drive, except it ...
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and ...
What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? ...
Blue diaphane, tobacco smoke Serpentine on wet film and wood glaze, Mutes chrome, wreathes velvet drapes, Dims the cave of ...
Here in the Autumn of my days My life is mellowed in a haze. Unpleasant sights are none to clear, ...
O Tavern of the Golden Snail! Ten sous have I, so I'll regale; Ten sous your amber brew to sip ...
He's yonder, on the terrace of the Cafe de la Paix, The little wizened Spanish man, I see him every ...
To Jena Woodhouse This way of minutes miserably mixed With their own blinks misunderstood By birds and trees, this eye-born ...
There is a lovely noise about your name, Above the shoutings of the city clear, More than a moment's merriment, ...
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