The Call of the Bush (Dora Wilcox Poems)
Three roads there are that climb and windAmongst the hills, and leave behindThe patterned orchards, sloping downTo meet a little ...
Three roads there are that climb and windAmongst the hills, and leave behindThe patterned orchards, sloping downTo meet a little ...
God, when you thought of a pine tree,How did you think of a star?How did you dream of the Milky ...
Stretched on a sunny bank he lay at rest, Ferns at his elbow, lilies round his knees, With sweet flesh ...
1 A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of ...
The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful little explosions and trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. ...
I walk down the garden paths, And all the daffodils Are blowing, and the bright blue squills. I walk down ...
The church flings forth a battled shade Over the moon-blanched sward: The church; my gift; whereto I paid My all ...
A face smiled at me from across the room caught in the shadows and folds of the floral patterned valance ...
Can we believe -- by an effort comfort our hearts: it is not waste all this, not placed here in ...
And I grew up in patterned tranquillity, In the cool nursery of the young century. And the voice of man ...
Within my house of patterned horn I sleep in such a bed As men may keep before they're born And ...
Rivers, tow paths, caravan parks From Kirkstall to Keighley The track's ribbon flaps Like Margaret's whirling and twirling At ten ...
AGAINST THE GRAIN "Oxford be silent, I this truth must write Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite." - William ...
STANDING IN EDEN 1 Poetry claimed me young on Skegness beach Before I was born I answered her cry For ...
THE WALK TO THE PARADISE GARDENS 1 Bonfire Night beckoned us to the bridge By Saint Hilda's where we started ...
Stretched on a sunny bank he lay at rest, Ferns at his elbow, lilies round his knees, With sweet flesh ...
The cow-moose comes to water, and the beaver's overbold, The net is in the eddy of the stream; The teepee ...
Oh, I was born a lyric babe (That last word is a bore - It's only rhyme is astrolabe," Whose ...
In flat America, in Chicago, Graceland cemetery on the German North Side. Forty feet of Corinthian candle celebrate Pullman embedded ...
Roses, rooted warm in earth, Bud in rhyme, another age; Lilies know a ghostly birth Strewn along a patterned page; ...
You have become a forge of snow-white fire, A crucible of molten steel, O France! Your sons are stars who ...
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