The Christiad (Henry Kirke White Poems)
BOOK I.I.I sing the Cross!—Ye white-robed angel choirs,Who know the chords of harmony to sweep,Ye who o'er holy David's varying ...
BOOK I.I.I sing the Cross!—Ye white-robed angel choirs,Who know the chords of harmony to sweep,Ye who o'er holy David's varying ...
IPRELUDE Hear a word that Jesus spake Nineteen hundred years ago, Where the crimson lilies blow Round the blue Tiberian lake: There the bread of ...
WISE men use days as husbandmen use bees,And steal rich drops from every pregnant hour;Others, like wasps on blossomed apple-trees,Find ...
The Beautiful City! ForeverIts rapturous praises resound;We fain would behold it-- but neverA glimpse of its dory is found:We slacken ...
When first I whispered words of love,When first you turned aside to hear,The winged griffin flew above,The mammoth gaily gamboll'd ...
I had remembrance of a summer morn,When all the glistening field was softly stirredAnd like a child's in happy sleep ...
History. History is not papyrus rolls,dried yellow parchments,not marble on pedestals.History is etched in the human heart,in hope, in memory,in ...
Mortals, that behold a Woman, Rising 'twixt the Moon and Sun;Who am I the heavens assume? an All am I, ...
What wonder this?—we ask the lympid well,O earth! of thee—and from thy solemn wombWhat yieldest thou?—is there life in the ...
NEVERMORE Shall the shepherds of Arcady follow Pan's moods as he lolls by the shore Of the mere, or lies ...
By the Nile, the sacred river,I can see the captive hordes,Strain beneath the lash and quiverAt the long papyrus cords,While ...
Through all the moving thoroughfares And in the contending marts of trade; Within the babbling magazines and Even as I ...
A slower pace On the Banks Palmettos sway Translucent green Or tawny papyrus brown Mesmerize A northerner Away from the ...
Let Dew, house of Dew rejoice with Xanthenes a precious stone of an amber colour. Let Round, house of Round ...
What wonder this?--we ask the lympid well, O earth! of thee--and from thy solemn womb What yieldest thou?--is there life ...
America, from a grain of maize you grew to crown with spacious lands the ocean foam. A grain of maize ...
I The arts are old, old as the stones From which man carved the sphinx austere. Deep are the days ...
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