Miss Thompson Goes Shopping (Martin Armstrong Poems)
Miss Thompson at HomeIn her lone cottage on the downs,With winds and blizzards and great crownsOf shining cloud, with wheeling ...
Miss Thompson at HomeIn her lone cottage on the downs,With winds and blizzards and great crownsOf shining cloud, with wheeling ...
They have saddled a hundred milk-white steeds,They have bridled a hundred black.-Old Ballad.'He turned in his saddle, now follow who ...
De people call me er kunger,Jes kase I du sum tricks;Jes, kase I'se got dis lucky black bone.Kan't gedder rutes ...
THE CRESCENT MOON and clock tower are fair above the wallAcross the smothered lanes of 'Loo, the stifled vice and ...
A desolate shore,The sinister seduction of the Moon,The menace of the irreclaimable Sea.Flaunting, tawdry and grim,From cloud to cloud along ...
I HATE to watch them reaping the Five Acre,The field at the hill's foot, steeply sloping.One sees the pattern too ...
Fytte IBy Wood and Wold"Beneath the greenwood bough." — W. Scott.Lightly the breath of the spring wind blows, Though ...
THERE is a big artist named Val, The roughs' and the prize-fighters' pal: The mind of a groom And the ...
JOHN, oh John,Thou honourable birdSun-peering eagle.Taking a bird's-eye viewEven of Calvary and ResurrectionNot to speak of Babylon's whoredom.High over the ...
There on the quay sobbed Bones, A.B., And he took me by the hand.Says he to me, "I've quit the ...
Air — "Airchie M'Vie."Archie's an archer, and a gude shot is he,But tho' he's hit mony, he never hit me;How ...
Grief thief of time crawls off,The moon-drawn grave, with the seafaring years,The knave of pain steals offThe sea-halved faith that ...
In my Spanish cloak,And old slouch hat,And overshoes of felt,And Tyke, my faithful dog,And my knotted hickory cane,I slipped about ...
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, ...
Sometimes the notes are ferocious, skirmishes against the author raging along the borders of every page in tiny black script. ...
To the Memory of the Household It Describes This Poem is Dedicated by the Author "As the Spirit of Darkness ...
Even as we speak, there's a smoker's cough from behind the whitethorn hedge: we stop dead in our tracks; a ...
In my Spanish cloak, And old slouch hat, And overshoes of felt, And Tyke, my faithful dog, And my knotted ...
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