Convict Once – Part Second. (James Brunton Stephens Poems)
I.1EVEN as water to him who thirsts wayfaring, dust-dry and burning,After sore heat and long stumbling in courses with never ...
I.1EVEN as water to him who thirsts wayfaring, dust-dry and burning,After sore heat and long stumbling in courses with never ...
IA heap of bare and splintery cragsTumbled about by lightning and frost,With rifts and chasms and storm-bleached jags,That wait and ...
THE ARRIVALThe sunlight of a waning winter daySent one long ray, aflame, across the gloomWhere Ludovico, Count of Ventimiglia,Bowed his ...
I am a man of forty, sirs, a native of East Haddam,And have some reason to surmise that I descend ...
SOBER September, robed in gray and dun,Smiled from the forest in half-pensive wise;A misty sweetness shone in her mild eyes,And ...
INot yet hast Thou soundedThy clangorous music,Whose strings are under the mountains…Not yet hast Thou spokenThe blooded, implacable Word…But I ...
I stood in the forest on HURON HILL When the night was old and the world was still. The Wind was a ...
IThe spattering of the rain upon pale terracesOf afternoon is like the passing of a dreamAmid the roses shuddering 'gainst ...
Dormered and verandaed, cool,Locust-girdled, on the hill;Stained with weather-wear, and dull-Streak'd with lichens; every sillThresholding the beautiful;I can see it ...
The little pitiful, worn, laughing faces,Begging of Life for Joy!I saw the little daughters of the poor,Tense from the long ...
NOW all my singing Dreams are gone,But none knows where they have fledNor by what trails they have left me.Return, ...
C'?tait quand le printemps a reverdi les pr?s. La fille de Lycus, vierge aux cheveux dor?s, Sous les monts Ach?ens, ...
The leaves dance, the leaves sing,The leaves dance in the breath of the Spring.I bid them dance,I bid them sing,For ...
Athwart the sod which is treading for God * the poet paced with hissplendid eyes;Paradise-verdure he stately passes * to ...
(In the south of Italy the peasants put out the eyes of a captured quailso that its cries may attract ...
Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,— Rough stalks, and from thick stamens ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
A LONE gray bird, Dim-dipping, far-flying, Alone in the shadows and grandeurs and tumults Of night and the sea And ...
Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,- Rough stalks, and from thick stamens A poisonous ...
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