Limey (Bill Adams Poems)
She's a Liverpool ship, an' becalmed on the Line;Ain't it hell when a Liverpool sailor must dine?Salt pork an' pea ...
She's a Liverpool ship, an' becalmed on the Line;Ain't it hell when a Liverpool sailor must dine?Salt pork an' pea ...
Ever stood th' twelve t' fourAnchor watch, alone at night,When th' lights along th' shoreWere jes' blinkin' out o' sight?Ever ...
It's ah ! for my grog, my jolly, jolly grog,It's ah ! for my beer and tobacco;I spent all my ...
The lovely things that I have watched unthinking,Unknowing, day by day,That their soft dyes have steeped my soul in colourThat ...
I LOVE to lie In the dreamy heat of an autumn day, Where the painted insects idly play, Floating about ...
I The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea green boat, They took some honey, and ...
I will not have the mad Clytie, Whose head is turned by the sun; The tulip is a courtly queen, ...
HERE, Here I live with what my board Can with the smallest cost afford; Though ne'er so mean the viands ...
Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a ...
You come to fetch me from my work to-night When supper's on the table, and we'll see If I can ...
Forbidden Fruit a flavor has That lawful Orchards mocks -- How luscious lies within the Pod The Pea that Duty ...
Nothing's certain. Crossing, on this longest day, the low-tide-uncovered isthmus, scrambling up the scree-slope of what at high tide will ...
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what's to ...
The first of the undecoded messages read: "Popeye sits in thunder, Unthought of. From that shoebox of an apartment, From ...
1 A SONG of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets; A song of farms-a ...
PEA pods cling to stems. Neponset, the village, Clings to the Burlington railway main line. Terrible midnight limiteds roar through ...
Under a sky the color of pea soup she is looking at her work growing away there actively, thickly like ...
It chanced out back at the Christmas time, When the wheat was ripe and tall, A stranger rode to the ...
Desine, Paulle, meum lacrimis urgere sepulcrum: nempe tuas lacrimas litora surda bibent. Propertius, IV.11 Don't cry for me, for only ...
Some people confuse inspiration with lightning not me I know it comes from the lungs and air you breathe it ...
The sun came up before breakfast, perfectly round and yellow, and we dressed in the soft light and shook out ...
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