This careful head, with divers thoughts distressed (Barnabe Barnes Poems)
This careful head, with divers thoughts distressed,My fancy's chronicler, my sorrow's muse;These watchful eyes, whose heedless aim I curse,Love's sentinels, ...
This careful head, with divers thoughts distressed,My fancy's chronicler, my sorrow's muse;These watchful eyes, whose heedless aim I curse,Love's sentinels, ...
Old trees, old trees! in your mystic gloom There's many a warrior laid,And many a nameless and lonely tomb Is ...
Of all sweet days that come and go,The sweetest fallWhen first the almond blossoms show,Above the wall:When through their flowers ...
THE summer down the garden walksSwept in her garments bright;She touched the pale still lily stalksAnd crowned them with delight;She ...
To my quick ear the Leaves-conferred-The Bushes-they were Bells-I could not find a PrivacyFrom Nature's sentinels-In Cave if I presumed ...
Playing her parchment moon Precosia comes along a watery path of laurels and crystal lights. The starless silence, fleeing from ...
The ancient oaks long losing their leaves their branches shattered the bark bled away the wood underneath turning like ivory ...
Corpses piled up on the curb limbs becoming bare in the winter air, shadows of the needles fallen below on ...
High up at the top of the chairlift at the summit of the mountain, the trees were coated, as with ...
A fence of wattles Placed just so in the mud shaped in labyrinth out in the current by the landing, ...
ONCE more permit me, nuns, and this the last; I can't resist, whatever may have passed, But must relate, what ...
O Fair and stately maid, whose eye Was kindled in the upper sky At the same torch that lighted mine; ...
What sort of arrow split the sky and this rock? It's quivering, spreading like a peacock's fan Like the mist ...
To my quick ear the Leaves -- conferred -- The Bushes -- they were Bells -- I could not find ...
Reubens, river of forgetfulness, garden of sloth, Pillow of wet flesh that one cannot love, But where life throngs and ...
AMERICA always! Always our own feuillage! Always Florida's green peninsula! Always the priceless delta of Louisiana! Always the cotton-fields of ...
We sleep in the sleep of ages, the bleak, barbarian pines; The gray moss drapes us like sages, and closer ...
(To Mrs. Henry Richards) Isaac and Archibald were two old men. I knew them, and I may have laughed at ...
Black is the beauty of the brightest day, The golden belle of heaven's eternal fire, That danced with glory on ...
Black is the beauty of the brightest day, The golden belle of heaven's eternal fire, That danced with glory on ...
I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIAS We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut ...
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