The Prohemye of the Authour (Christopher Goodwyn Poems)
Beholde you yonge Ladyes, of hyghe parentageAnd you yonge virgyns, of eche degreHere is a pamphlet, euen mete for your ...
Beholde you yonge Ladyes, of hyghe parentageAnd you yonge virgyns, of eche degreHere is a pamphlet, euen mete for your ...
Seynt Stevene was a clerk in Kyng Herowd{.e}s halle, And servyd him of bred and cloth, as every kyng ...
Not by one measure mayst thou mete our love;For how should I be loved as I love thee?-I, graceless, joyless, ...
Though love had dreamt of soft eternitiesFor never-flagging pulses still to mete,Those minutes of our bliss were few and fleet.Breast-pillowed ...
We are the shaken slaves of Breath: For logic leaves the race unstirred; But cadence, and the vibrant word, Are ...
Wallowing in this bloody sty, I cast for fish that pleased my eye (Truly Jehovah's bow suspends No pots of ...
I MARK the months in liveries dank and dry, The day-tides many-shaped and hued; I see the nightfall shades subtrude, ...
In the third-class seat sat the journeying boy, And the roof-lamp's oily flame Played down on his listless form and ...
Like God for us, Joseph's brothers really forgiven someone who could punish mete out a judgment A generous heart, an ...
Retracing steps, replaying in her mind moments of the day, a Saturday like all others that fall and no other ...
The double 12 sorwe of Troilus to tellen, That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, In lovinge, how his ...
I. THE GARDEN. ABOVE the city hung the moon, Right o'er a plot of ground Where flowers and orchard-trees were ...
THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign; Of thy caprice maternal I complain. The peopled fold thy kindly care have found, ...
O Friends! with whom my feet have trod The quiet aisles of prayer, Glad witness to your zeal for God ...
It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Matched with an aged wife, ...
SOFT, small, and sweet as sunniest flowers That bask in heavenly heat When bud by bud breaks, breathes, and cowers, ...
Joy, thou goddess, fair, immortal, Offspring of Elysium, Mad with rapture, to the portal Of thy holy fame we come! ...
I I took the clock down from the shelf; "At eight," said I, "I shoot myself." It lacked a minute ...
I AM the tender voice calling "Away," Whispering between the beatings of the heart, And inaccessible in dewy eyes I ...
I. Sunrise. In my sleep I was fain of their fellowship, fain Of the live-oak, the marsh, and the main. ...
Swift, through some trap mine eyes have never found, Dim-panelled in the painted scene of Sleep, Thou, giant Harlequin of ...
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