The Giaour (Lord Byron Poem)
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
We sat down and wept by the waters Of Babel, and thought of the day When our foe, in the ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh, Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky; Where now alone ...
I Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep ...
I TRUTH is within ourselves; it takes no rise From outward things, whate'er you may believe. There is an inmost ...
I. How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings come: And where, my soul, ...
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
The half-shut doors through which we heard that music Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence. The stars whirl ...
She turned her head on the pillow, and cried once more. And drawing a shaken breath, and closing her eyes, ...
More towers must yet be built-more towers destroyed- Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in ...
The snow floats down upon us, mingled with rain . . . It eddies around pale lilac lamps, and falls ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
Starspangled cowboy sauntering out of the almost- silly West, on your face a porcelain grin, tugging a papier-mache cactus on ...
Cruising these residential Sunday streets in dry August sunlight: what offends us is the sanities: the houses in pedantic rows, ...
MY future will not copy fair my past On any leaf but Heaven's. Be fully done Supernal Will ! I ...
A magic moment I remember: I raised my eyes and you were there. A fleeting vision, the quintessence Of all ...
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