The Feast Of The Virgins – The Feast Of The Virgins (Hanford Lennox Gordon Poems)
The sun sails high in his azure realms;Beneath the arch of the breezy elmsThe feast is spread by the murmuring ...
The sun sails high in his azure realms;Beneath the arch of the breezy elmsThe feast is spread by the murmuring ...
They said "Too late, too late, the work is done;Great Homer sang of glory and strong menAnd that fair Greek ...
Beneath the fervour of the noon-tide beamAll Nature's works in placid stillness pause,--Save man, and his joint labourer the horse,The ...
THE fourth day found the dark tribe brooding o'erTheir chieftain's body, chieftain now no more!As fire half-quench'd, some faint spark ...
Hark! the whetstone raspsAlong the mower's scythe; for now's the timeTo reap the grassy mead,—-ere yet the beeInto the purple ...
Oft have you seen a swan superbly frowning,And with proud breast his own white shadow crowning;He slants his neck beneath ...
IHe walked under the shadow of the HillWhere men are fed into the firesAnd walled apart…Unarmed and alone,He summoned his ...
O vale of visionary rest!-Hushed as the grave it liesWith heaving banks of tenderest greenYet brightly, happily serene,As cloud-vale of ...
VVhether thy Fathers, or diseases rage,More mortal prov'd to thy unhappy age,Our sorrow needs not question; since the firstIs known ...
How carelessly you wore your beauty!Lightly as if 'twere cloth of air,Too heavy for your soul to wear,As if to ...
They pass through the great iron gates -Men with eyes gravely discerning,Skilled to appraise the tunnage of cranesOr split an ...
September: 1643Sweet air and fresh; glades yet unsear'd by handOf Midas-finger'd Autumn, massy-green;Bird-haunted nooks between,Where feathery ferns, a fairy palmglove, ...
It seemed corrival of the world's great prime,Made to un-edge the scythe of Time,And last with stateliest rhyme.No tender Dryad ...
FORBID, oh Fate! forbid that I Should linger long before I die! Ah, let me not sad day by day ...
I stood upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch Was glorious with the sun's returning march, And woods were brightened, ...
The Sun, who never stops to dine, Two hours had pass'd the mid-way line, And driving at his usual rate, ...
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