Sunthin’ In The Pastoral Line (James Russell Lowell Poems)
Once git a smell o' musk into a draw,An' it clings hold like precerdents in law;Your gra'ma'am put it there,—when, ...
Once git a smell o' musk into a draw,An' it clings hold like precerdents in law;Your gra'ma'am put it there,—when, ...
I.O'er the bare woods, whose outstretched handsPlead with the leaden heavens in vain,I see, beyond the valley lands,The sea's long ...
In those days the Evil Spirits,All the Manitos of mischief,Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom,And his love for Chibiabos,Jealous of their faithful friendship,And ...
Part 02: His Futile Preoccupations - 01I am a house, says Senlin, locked and darkened, Sealed from the sun with ...
May 28th, 1879Joy to Ierne, joy,This day a deathless crown is won,Her child of song, her glorious son,Her minstrel boyAttains ...
Voice of the gifted elder time!Voice of the charm and the Runic rhyme!Speak! from the shades and the depths disclose,How ...
IPrince of Bards was old Aneurin;He the grand Gododin sang;All his numbers threw such fire in,Struck his harp so wild ...
TWAS on a Sabbath morning that we wandered in the wood, Where near three thousand years ago the ancient Veii ...
IN a fair wood like this, where the beeches are growing, Brave Robin Hood hunted in days of old; Down ...
1When in front of you hangs the day with its Smallest detail-fine or crude- The intensely hot cracking squirrel-sounds Do ...
Behold him lie in beauty and in vigor,The seventh sleeper! all the rest awakened;Behold the wing?d hours are flitting by ...
Japanese Street Song.Although I shall not see his faceFor the low riding of the ship,The three armorial oak-leaves on his ...
In those days the Evil Spirits, All the Manitos of mischief, Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom, And his love for Chibiabos, Jealous ...
Only stand high a long enough time your lightning will come; that is what blunts the peaks of redwoods; But ...
I The rutted roads are all like iron; skies Are keen and brilliant; only the oak-leaves cling In the bare ...
I The cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam. The vault yet blazes with the sun Writhing above ...
I The cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam. The vault yet blazes with the sun Writhing above ...
What may the woman labour to confess? There is about her mouth a nervous twitch. 'Tis something to be told, ...
What may the woman labour to confess? There is about her mouth a nervous twitch. 'Tis something to be told, ...
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to ...
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