The Sydney International Exhibition (Henry Kendall Poems)
Now, while Orion, flaming south, doth setA shining foot on hills of wind and wet-Far haughty hills beyond the fountains ...
Now, while Orion, flaming south, doth setA shining foot on hills of wind and wet-Far haughty hills beyond the fountains ...
In the fair land o'erwatched by Ischia's mountains,Across the charmed bayWhose blue waves keep with Capri's silver fountainsPerpetual holiday,A king ...
There is this ship which has taken my beloved back againThere are six Zeppelin sausages in the sky and with ...
Quand le soleil se couche horizontal,De longs rayons noyant la plaine immense,Comme un ble mur, le ciel occidentalDe pourpre vive ...
The winter has deflowered garden and heath;Nought lives; and on the rock's unchanging gray,Where the Atlantic's endless billows play,The last ...
Ada, now he pensive hours move slowly, Around Night's sable car; And thy spirit roves through regions holy Of the dreamland far. I, too, ...
Bring the wine-cup, companions! and let it go round! At its bottom good humor and mirth will be found; Bring ...
It was the morning season of the year; It was the morning era of the land;The watercourses rang full loud ...
Nay, Hylas, I have come To where life's landscape takes a western slope, And breezes from the occidental ...
" By Casey's Occidental Rooms, when the sun is getting low, The chattering crowds of Chinatown along the pavements go, ...
'Tis sweet to trace the setting sun Wheel blushing down the west; When his diurnal race is run, The traveller ...
But, oh! the night—the cool, luxurious night,Which closes round us when the day grows dim,And the sun sinks from his ...
The largest Fire ever known Occurs each Afternoon -- Discovered is without surprise Proceeds without concern -- Consumes and no ...
In the outskirts of the village On the river's winding shores Stand the Occidental plane-trees, Stand the ancient sycamores. One ...
I The dawn laughs out on orient hills And dances with the diamond rills; The ambrosial wind but faintly stirs ...
I The air is silent save where stirs A bugling breeze among the firs; The virgin world in white array ...
In a lone valley fair and far, Where many sweet beguilements are, I know a spot to lag and dream ...
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