An Indian-Summe (James Russell Lowell Poems)
What visionary tints the year puts on,When failing leaves falter through motionless airOr numbly cling and shiver to be gone!How ...
What visionary tints the year puts on,When failing leaves falter through motionless airOr numbly cling and shiver to be gone!How ...
Fairies can hide anywhere,Up and down, and in and out,'Neath the cushion of a chair,In a teapot's empty spout;They can ...
THE PLEASVRE OF RETIREMENT. The Reinvitation. THEOPHISA's fill'd wth Sweetness, & so Fair: Her Eyes so mild, her Breath perfumes ...
Felicity! Who ope'st to none that knocks, yet, laughing weak, ...
You must remember this when I am gone,And tell your sons-for you will have tall sons,And times will come when ...
Through throats where many rivers meet, the curlews cry,Under the conceiving moon, on the high chalk hill,And there this night ...
I was picking raspberries, my head was in the canes,And he came behind and kissed me, and I smacked him ...
An old dalewoman speaks:"JAPONICA! Ay, it makes a brave show,But none on 'em grow as they used to grow!It's goin' ...
Over the yearsI've stored up in my heartAll dawns and forenoons,Woods and mountains, plains and streams,The tropics and exotic flowers ...
The wind is blowin' cold down the mountain tips of snowAnd 'cross the ranges layin' brown and dead;It's cryin' through ...
"O, the red tongues! The leavings of the fire! Red sunshine in October's smoky airWith all dry grasses rustling in ...
Five ricks in a rowStand in my father's field, I know,Five ricks beside the hedgeThat marks the long field's topmost ...
Why, Disease, dost thou molestLadies? and of them the best?Do not men, ynow of ritesTo thy altars, by their nightsSpent ...
JanuaryWHEN snow's on topsAn' hearths are cheery,At a merry-makingChoose thi dearie.FebruaryWhen birds beginTo chirp "Be mine!"Ask her to beThi Valentine.MarchWhen ...
JanuaryWhen snow's on topsan' hearths are cheery,at a merry makingchoose thi dearie.FebruaryWhen birds beginTo chirp "Be mine!"Ask her to beThi ...
TO MR. J. T. RICKS. When de moon streams down On er kam still night, Let me sot by de ...
In Dorset Dear they're making hayIn just the old West Country way.With fork and rake and old-time gearThey make the ...
I do not think of you lying in the wet clay Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see You walking down ...
There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield, And the ricks stand grey to the ...
There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield, And the ricks stand gray to the ...
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting house and happy as the grass ...
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