THE BRIDGE (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem)
I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose o'er the ...
I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose o'er the ...
More than a hundred years ago, in a great battle fought near Delhi, an Indian Prince rode fifty miles after ...
Now Jones had left his new-wed bride to keep his house in order, And hied away to the Hurrum Hills ...
I do not doubt you. I know you love me. It is a fact of your indoor face, A true ...
O suns and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October's ...
That night your great guns, unawares, Shook all our coffins as we lay, And broke the chancel window-squares, We thought ...
IN Collins Street standeth a statute tall, A statue tall, on a pillar of stone, Telling its story, to great ...
My first well Day -- since many ill -- I asked to go abroad, And take the Sunshine in my ...
A Wounded Deer -- leaps highest -- I've heard the Hunter tell -- 'Tis but the Ecstasy of death -- ...
A forge burns in my heart. I am redder than dawn, Deeper than seaweed, More distant than gulls, More hollow ...
1 On Linden, when the sun was low, 2 All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, 3 And dark as winter ...
Hear me, Lord of the Stars! For thee I have worshipped ever With stains and sorrows and scars, With joyful, ...
Hear me, Lord of the Stars! For thee I have worshipped ever With stains and sorrows and scars, With joyful, ...
The great millennium is at hand. Redder apples grow on the tree. A saxophone is in ev'ry band. Brandy no ...
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
Fall's leaves are redder than spring's flowers, have no pollen, and also sometimes fly, as the wind schools them out ...
Making love in the sun, in the morning sun in a hotel room above the alley where poor men poke ...
O listen, listen, ladies gay! No haughty feat of arms I tell; Soft is the note, and sad the lay ...
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where ...
Not in that wasted garden Where bodies are drawn into grass That feeds no flocks, and into evergreens That bear ...
Sometimes in morning sunlights by the river Where in the early fall long grasses wave, Light winds from over the ...
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