After Dinner (Albert Pike Poems)
To BEVERLEY TUCKER, ESQUIRE, GREETING: Dear BEV. this greeting goes to you across the Atlantic brine, From the little room ...
To BEVERLEY TUCKER, ESQUIRE, GREETING: Dear BEV. this greeting goes to you across the Atlantic brine, From the little room ...
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft, Ffor that a romping wench was shee—"Now marke this rede," they bade her oft, ...
'The witches' device for the equitable distributionof the liquor consisted in the constructionof tens of thousands of stopcocks and bungswhich ...
"WHEN winter's cold tempests and snows are no more, Green meadows and brown-furrowed fields reappearing, The fishermen hauling their ...
We called him "Rags." He was just a cur,But twice, on the Western Line,That little old bunch of faithful furHad ...
for R.D.D.oh its an easy coolthat roling of long grass lawn tranquilityand long grass philosophysounds almost as absurdas suburban hipsterssmoking ...
"THE OSPREY sails above the sound, The geese are gone, the gulls are flying; The herring shoals swarm thick ...
Do not bathe her in blood,the little one whose sex isundermined, she drops leafyacross the belly of blacksky and her ...
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft, Ffor that a romping wench was shee-- "Now marke this rede," they bade her ...
In the outskirts of the village On the river's winding shores Stand the Occidental plane-trees, Stand the ancient sycamores. One ...
The birches are mad with green points the wood's edge is burning with their green, burning, seething-No, no, no. The ...
I. Ah! wherefore by the Church-yard side, Poor little LORN ONE, dost thou stray? Thy wavy locks but thinly hide ...
"What is this world?thy school, O misery! "Our only lesson is to learn to suffer." - YOUNG. LOVE, thou sportive ...
O'ER fallow plains and fertile meads, AURORA lifts the torch of day; The shad'wy brow of Night recedes, Cold dew-drops ...
ENLIGHTEN'D Patron of the sacred Lyre? Whose ever-varying, ever-witching song Revibrates on the heart With magic thrilling touch, Till ev'ry ...
Come, bright-eyed maid, Pure offspring of the tranquil mind, Haste, my fev'rish temples bind With olive wreaths of em'rald hue ...
SWEET BIRD OF SORROW! why complain In such soft melody of Song, That ECHO, am'rous of thy Strain, The ling'ring ...
O'er the tall cliff that bounds the billowy main Shad'wing the surge that sweeps the lonely strand, While the thin ...
Upon a lonely desart Beach Where the white foam was scatter'd, A little shed uprear'd its head Though lofty Barks ...
Because the shad are swimming in our waters now, breaching the skin of the river with their tarnished silvery fins, ...
How pleasant to sit on the beach, On the beach, on the sand, in the sun, With ocean galore within ...
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