The Progress Of Wit (Jean de La Fontaine Poems)
DIVERTING in extreme there is a play,Which oft resumes its fascinating sway;Delights the sex, or ugly, fair, or sour;By night ...
DIVERTING in extreme there is a play,Which oft resumes its fascinating sway;Delights the sex, or ugly, fair, or sour;By night ...
Our _Donne_ is dead; England should mourne, may say We had a man where language chose to stay And shew her gracefull ...
Should you ask me, whence these stories?Whence these legends and traditions,With the odors of the forestWith the dew and damp ...
ON HEARING KELLEY'S MUSIC OF "MACBETH."MELODY, what children strange are theseFrom thy most vast, illimitable realm?These sounds that seize upon ...
I saw the clouds among the hills Trailing their plumes of rainy gray. The purple of the woods behind Fell ...
Far off (no matter whether east or west,A real country, or one made in jest,Nor yet by modern Mandevilles disgraced,Nor ...
Upon a flow'ry Bed Beneath a Willow's pleasant shade, Beside a crystal Flood his Love--sick Head The melancholy Baker laid: ...
Should you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest With the ...
I have been wondering What you are thinking about, and by now suppose It is certainly not me. But the ...
DIVERTING in extreme there is a play, Which oft resumes its fascinating sway; Delights the sex, or ugly, fair, or ...
I see a woman any woman making up and change first she is thinking of something else (because when a ...
Momus is the name men give your face, The brag of its tone, like a long low steamboat whistle Finding ...
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, ...
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