The Candidate (George Crabbe Poems)
A POETICAL EPISTLE TO THE AUTHORS OF THE MONTHLY REVIEW.AN INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS OF THE AUTHOR TO HIS POEMS.Ye idler things, ...
A POETICAL EPISTLE TO THE AUTHORS OF THE MONTHLY REVIEW.AN INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS OF THE AUTHOR TO HIS POEMS.Ye idler things, ...
{TO THE Generous SUBSCRIBERS, &c}. The Author finding all Attempts prove vain,Those glittering Smiles from Fortune to obtain:That purblind Goddess ...
LEAVE now our streets, and in yon plain beholdThose pleasant Seats for the reduced and old;A merchant's gift, whose wife ...
Kuprianov and his dear lady Natasha after walking those swinish guests to the door prepare for bed.kuprianovsaid, taking off his ...
What art thou, SPLEEN, which ev'ry thing dost ape? Thou Proteus to abus'd Mankind, Who never yet thy real Cause ...
There is a spot I call accursed,Because my thoughts for ever wingBack to its gloom, from whence they burst,And settle ...
… Thus from a mixture of all kinds began, That het'rogeneous thing, an Englishman: In eager ...
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence.You say (but use no words) 'this night is passingAs other nights ...
Thou damn'd antipodes to common sense! Thou foil to Flecknoe! Prithee tell from whence Does all this mighty stock of ...
If with civility you can, declineAll public feasts, and learn at home to dineWith sober food, at your own charge ...
You make yourself contemptible and mean,A member of the rabble, if obsceneIn conversation; wherefore when you findSome one to lewd ...
He that is filthy let him be filthy still. Rev. 22.11 Like John on Patmos, brooding on the Four Last ...
He that is filthy let him be filthy still. Rev. 22.11 Like John on Patmos, brooding on the Four Last ...
THESE are the most singular of all the Poems of Goethe, and to many will appear so wild and fantastic, ...
What art thou, SPLEEN, which ev'ry thing dost ape? Thou Proteus to abus'd Mankind, Who never yet thy real Cause ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence. You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing As ...
Chloe, In verse by your command I write. Shortly you'll bid me ride astride, and fight: These talents better with ...
1 RISE, O days, from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep! Long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I ...
Little poppies, little hell flames, Do you do no harm? You flicker. I cannot touch you. I put my hands ...
You bring me good news from the clinic, Whipping off your silk scarf, exhibiting the tight white Mummy-cloths, smiling: I'm ...
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