The Old Burying-Ground (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
Our vales are sweet with fern and rose,Our hills are maple-crowned;But not from them our fathers choseThe village burying-ground.The dreariest ...
Our vales are sweet with fern and rose,Our hills are maple-crowned;But not from them our fathers choseThe village burying-ground.The dreariest ...
A NOTELESS stream, the Birchbrook runsBeneath its leaning trees;That low, soft ripple is its own,That dull roar is the sea's.Of ...
LINES , in addition to the treasureOf poesy, culled for the pleasureOf beau and belle and gentle dame,When seated round ...
O The Little Lady's dainty As the picture in a book, And her hands are creamy-whiter Than the water-lilies look; Her laugh's the undrown'd ...
YES, write, if you want to, there's nothing like trying; Who knows what a treasure your casket may hold? I'll ...
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