Carmen Seculare. For the Year 1700. To The King (Matthew Prior Poems)
Thy elder Look, Great Janus, castInto the long Records of Ages past:Review the Years in fairest Action drestWith noted White, ...
Thy elder Look, Great Janus, castInto the long Records of Ages past:Review the Years in fairest Action drestWith noted White, ...
TWICE had the mellowing sun of autumn crownedThe hundredth circle of his yearly round,When, as we meet to-day, our fathers ...
PART I.Pictured in memory's mellowing glass, how sweetOur infant days, our infant joys, to greet;To roam in fancy in each ...
Here at thy broad sea gate,On the ultimate ocean wave,Where millions in hope have entered in,Joyous, elateA home and a ...
Tauler, the preacher, walked, one autumn day,Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine,Pondering the solemn Miracle of Life;As one ...
West Fifty-third was still Hell's Kitchenthe summer I first came to town,Eleventh Avenue was boarded up,the West Side Drive was ...
I ponder how He died, despairing once.I've heard the cry subside in vacant skies,In clearings where no other was. Despair,Which, ...
WHAT is a Church?--Let Truth and Reason speak,They would reply, "The faithful, pure, and meek;From Christian folds, the one selected ...
IOn her great venture, Man,Earth gazes while her fingers dint the breastWhich is his well of strength, his home of ...
I know that every note and chord of woe Sob in these lines; and you who have not borne My ...
With beasts and gods, above, the wall is bright. The child's head, bent to the book-colored shelves, Is slow and ...
We walked where Victor Jove was shrined awhile, And passed to Livia's rich red mural show, Whence, thridding cave and ...
We walked where Victor Jove was shrined awhile, And passed to Livia's rich red mural show, Whence, thridding cave and ...
Today the Masons are auctioning their discarded pomp: a trunk of turbans, gemmed and ostrich-plumed, and operetta costumes labeled inside ...
Fled foam underneath us, and round us, a wandering and milky smoke, High as the Saddle-girth, covering away from our ...
A week later, I said to a friend: I don't think I could ever write about it. Maybe in a ...
All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven's wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, ...
This poem is intended as a description of a sort of Blashfield mural painting on the sky. To be sung ...
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