The Sliprails And The Spur (Henry Lawson Poem)
The colours of the setting sun Withdrew across the Western land- He raised the sliprails, one by one, And shot ...
The colours of the setting sun Withdrew across the Western land- He raised the sliprails, one by one, And shot ...
What counsel has the hooded moon Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet, Of Love in ancient plenilune, Glory and ...
Love Came to Us Love came to us in time gone by When one at twilight shyly played And one ...
I remember when I met you, At a table all alone; I thought you were so pretty, Shining like a ...
Seeing her young face a little bit dirty her mother tentative wanting to say yes the little stuffed dolly with ...
"Willis, I didn't want you here to-day: The lawyer's coming for the company. I'm going to sell my soul, or, ...
The Daisy follows soft the Sun -- And when his golden walk is done -- Sits shyly at his feet ...
Again -- his voice is at the door -- I feel the old Degree -- I hear him ask the ...
When night stirred at sea, An the fire brought a crowd in They say that her beauty Was music in ...
I approach with such a careful tremor, always I feel the finally foolish question of how it is, then, supposed ...
How still, how happy! Those are words That once would scarce agree together; I loved the plashing of the surge ...
It was a little budding rose, Round like a fairy globe, And shyly did its leaves unclose Hid in their ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
O trees of life, oh, what when winter comes? We are not of one mind. Are not like birds in ...
He felt the entrance's green darkness wrapped cooly round him like a silken cloak that he was still accepting and ...
A Poem for Three Voices Setting: A Maternity Ward and round about FIRST VOICE: I am slow as the world. ...
When the call of the hudud, Echoes through the palm fronds Carrying in their mists, Visions, memories: Caravans of high ...
A week later, I said to a friend: I don't think I could ever write about it. Maybe in a ...
Annie Marshall was a foundling, and lived in Downderry, And was trained up by a coast-guardsman, kind-hearted and merry And ...
'Twas in the village of Ruily there lived a bonnie lass With red, pouting lips which few lasses could surpass, ...
Here is a voice that soundeth low and far And lyricvoice of wind among the pines, Where the untroubled, glimmering ...
I I have loved England, dearly and deeply, Since that first morning, shining and pure, The white cliffs of Dover ...
(He speaks, but to himself, being aware how it is with her) Think not I have not heard. Well-fanged the ...
"So pulse, and pulse, thou rhythmic-hearted Noon That liest, large-limbed, curved along the hills, In languid palpitation, half a-swoon With ...
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