Custer: Book Second (Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems)
IOh, for the power to call to aid, of mineOwn humble Muse, the famed and sacred nine.Then might she fitly ...
IOh, for the power to call to aid, of mineOwn humble Muse, the famed and sacred nine.Then might she fitly ...
The Association.ARGUMENT. Panduntur Coeli, juvat hinc invisere Div?m Atria, mortali non adeunda Pede: H?c, Animae pennis advecta Theophila, cernit Agmina ...
High on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shoneHenley's gilt tub, or Flecknoe's Irish throne,Or that where on her Curlls the ...
'TIS well--that Man to all the varying statesOf good and ill his mind accommodates;He not alone progressive grief sustains,But soon ...
IT was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might, ...
The damsel from the field returns, The sun is sinking in the west; Her bundle on her head she sets, ...
Arise, and call her blessed,—seventy years!Each one a tongue to speak for her, who needsNo poor device of ours to ...
In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek,And in the pallor that succeeds it; byThe quivering lid of an averted ...
I.Farewell! O soul departed! Farewell! O sacred urn! Bereaved and broken-hearted, To earth the mourners turn. To the dim and ...
Behold, once more, facetious BenSteps from his paste to take the pen;And as the trumpets, shrill and loud,Precede the sheriff's ...
In France I saw a hill—a gentle slopeRising above old tombs to greet the gleamFrom soft spring skies. Beyond these ...
First time he kissed me, he but only kissedThe finger of this hand wherewith I write;And ever since, it grew ...
You were a pearlIn the palm of my hand,My tiny baby boy. Why is it that I,A white-haired man of ...
Tell me, Was Venus more beautiful Than you are, When she topped The crinkled waves, Drifting shoreward On her plaited ...
Here on the slopes of hills, facing the dusk and the cannon of time Close to the gardens of broken ...
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough, Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough; The chanting linnet, or the ...
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, ...
How does Love speak? In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek, And in the pallor that succeeds it; by ...
BOOK FIRST. I. ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy. Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy ...
THINK of the Soul; I swear to you that body of yours gives proportions to your Soul somehow to live ...
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