Enigma XLIII. (Elizabeth Hitchener Poems)
THE native place of sordid Balaam tell;Where Abraham in early life did dwell;What mount for beauteous cedars once was fam'dWhat ...
THE native place of sordid Balaam tell;Where Abraham in early life did dwell;What mount for beauteous cedars once was fam'dWhat ...
the booking clerk believes in the doctrineof the next trainwhen conversations turns to timehe talks his tonguehands it to you ...
What started in Jerusalem Like an ordinary planet of an ordinary star on the edge of the galaxy Like a ...
It's June ag'in, an' in my soul I feel the fillin' joy That's sure to come this time o' year ...
The three stood listening to a fresh access Of wind that caught against the house a moment, Gulped snow, and ...
Of all our antic sights and pageantry Which English idiots run in crowds to see, The Polish Medal bears the ...
Dim, as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars To lonely, weary, wand'ring travellers, Is reason to the soul; and ...
The West Village by then was changing; before long the rundown brownstones at its farthest edge would have slipped into ...
WHEN that Aprilis, with his showers swoot*, *sweet The drought of March hath pierced to the root, And bathed every ...
This is a day of happiness, sweet peace, And heavenly sunshine; upon which conven'd In full assembly fair, once more ...
Eliza, what fools are the Mussulman sect, Who to woman deny the soul's future existence! Could they see thee, Eliza, ...
Karshish, the picker-up of learning's crumbs, The not-incurious in God's handiwork (This man's-flesh he hath admirably made, Blown like a ...
Pythagoras planned it. Why did the people stare? His numbers, though they moved or seemed to move In marble or ...
The voice of a dead poet calling out from his grave asking me to follow his visions. Once a spirit ...
The blast from Freedom's Northern hills, upon its Southern way, Bears greeting to Virginia from Massachusetts Bay: No word of ...
To the Memory of the Household It Describes This Poem is Dedicated by the Author "As the Spirit of Darkness ...
The Sun, who never stops to dine, Two hours had pass'd the mid-way line, And driving at his usual rate, ...
I -- In Church Thou whose birth on earth Angels sang to men, While thy stars made mirth, Saviour, at ...
'Tis hard to say, if greater Want of Skill Appear in Writing or in Judging ill, But, of the two, ...
All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued, Through Heaven's wide champain held his way; till Morn, Waked by the circling Hours, ...
Perplexed and troubled at his bad success The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply, Discovered in his fraud, thrown ...
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