257. Ode on the Departed Regency Bill (Robert Burns Poem)
DAUGHTER of Chaos' doting years, Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fears, Whether thy airy, insubstantial shade (The rights of ...
DAUGHTER of Chaos' doting years, Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fears, Whether thy airy, insubstantial shade (The rights of ...
THOU, Liberty, thou art my theme; Not such as idle poets dream, Who trick thee up a heathen goddess That ...
Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)- a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me ...
I can make out the rigging of a schooner a mile off; I can count the new cones on the ...
Now can you see the monument? It is of wood built somewhat like a box. No. Built like several boxes ...
In the cold, cold parlor my mother laid out Arthur beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, with Princess Alexandra, ...
on years, on the dance of whispers. where have we gone when the merry pranksters painted the soul of a ...
young girl with her south china sea eyes where an ocean wind sighs stands as she tries. in the silence ...
Sometimes I stroll through forests just sprayed for the gypsy moths. I throw a rock into the bushes to distract ...
My dearest Frank, I wish you joy Of Mary's safety with a Boy, Whose birth has given little pain Compared ...
In measured verse I'll now rehearse The charms of lovely Anna: And, first, her mind is unconfined Like any vast ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Cruising these residential Sunday streets in dry August sunlight: what offends us is the sanities: the houses in pedantic rows, ...
STILL anxious to secure your partial favour, And not less anxious, sure, this night, than ever, A Prologue, Epilogue, or ...
DEAR ---, I'll gie ye some advice, You'll tak it no uncivil: You shouldna paint at angels mair, But try ...
YE Irish lords, ye knights an' squires, Wha represent our brughs an' shires, An' doucely manage our affairs In parliament, ...
THE SUN had clos'd the winter day, The curless quat their roarin play, And hunger'd maukin taen her way, To ...
arrive. The Ladies from the Ladies' Betterment League Arrive in the afternoon, the late light slanting In diluted gold bars ...
and the sun weilds mercy but like a jet torch carried to high, and the jets whip across its sight ...
There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks, and outside a large green bus swerves through ...
ah, christ, what a CREW: more poetry, always more P O E T R Y . if it doesn't come, ...
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