British Georgics. September (James Grahame Poems)
Clear is the sky, and temperate the air,That, scarcely stirring, wafts, with gentlest breath,The gossamer light glittering in the sun.And ...
Clear is the sky, and temperate the air,That, scarcely stirring, wafts, with gentlest breath,The gossamer light glittering in the sun.And ...
NEW YORK, DECEMBER 3, 1873HANG out our banners on the stately towerIt dawns at last--the long-expected hour!The steep is climbed, ...
LO! through a shadowy valley March with measured step and tread A long array of Phantoms wan And pallid as ...
An hour agone, and prostrate Nature layLike some sore-smitten creature nigh to death,With feverish parched lips, with labouring breath,And languid ...
IF this little world to-night Suddenly should fall through spaceIn a hissing, headlong flight, Shrivelling from off its face,As it falls into ...
Ah, could I love thee, thou,The loveless o' the earth!And pry aneath the cranniesYet untouched by mortal hand,To send therein ...
Oh the dear summer evening! How the air is mellow with the delicate breath of flowers and wafts of hay ...
Mortals, that behold a Woman, Rising 'twixt the Moon and Sun;Who am I the heavens assume? an All am I, ...
(_By Sir Giles, whom the Witch of Urm leads to Judas Iscariot_) Against a castle moated gloomily by a bitter ...
A saint about to fall,The stained flats of heaven hit and razedTo the kissed kite hems of his shawl,On the ...
Old Man, or Lads-Love, - in the name there's nothingTo one that knows not Lads-Love, or Old Man, The hoar ...
1 They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every ...
Jim just loves to garden, yes he does. He likes nothing better than to put on his little overalls and ...
Old Man, or Lads-Love, - in the name there's nothing To one that knows not Lads-Love, or Old Man, The ...
Jim just loves to garden, yes he does. He likes nothing better than to put on his little overalls and ...
Across the land a faint blue veil of mist Seems hung; the woods wear yet arrayment sober Till frost shall ...
I Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us . . . Wearied we keep awake ...
Yours is the shame and sorrow, But the disgrace is mine; Your love was dark and thorough, Mine was the ...
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