Clipper Days (a song from Snug Harbor) (Harry Kemp Poems)
I am eighty years old and somewhat,But I give to God the praiseThat they made a sailor of meIn the ...
I am eighty years old and somewhat,But I give to God the praiseThat they made a sailor of meIn the ...
Oh! then tell me, Sean O'Farrell,Tell me why you hurry so?"Hush, mo bhuachaill, hush and listen,"And his cheeks were all ...
At dawnThe cold steel blade of timeFalls once again across my browAnd as its golden compromiseSurrenders to my will(Your heart ...
Resplendent as on that great morn he rose, When, from the inmost depth of heaven's immense, The bright eternal solitude ...
Real as a dreamWhat shall I do with this great opportunity to fly?What is the interpretation of this planet, this ...
Signing on in the Emerald IsleUp comes a bloke in shellback style,All fish hooks spunyarn and Stockholm tar,Fist like a ...
Servant of God, rememberThe stream thy soul bedewing,The grace that came upon theeAnointing and renewing.When kindly slumber calls thee,Upon thy ...
Open your doors and take me in,Spirit of the wood;Wash me clean of dust and din,Clothe me in your mood. ...
As though it were reluctant to be day, .......Morning deploys a scale .......Of rarities in gray, And winter settles down ...
When I die I don't care what happens to my body throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East ...
It was so easy to appreciate; but so hard to explain No, no, scratch that, the other way around Deaf ...
A jar of cider and my pipe, In summer, under shady tree; A book by one that made his mind ...
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, ...
Sometimes the notes are ferocious, skirmishes against the author raging along the borders of every page in tiny black script. ...
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what's to ...
You know how it is waking from a dream certain you can fly and that someone, long gone, returned and ...
1 Adios, Carenage In idle August, while the sea soft, and leaves of brown islands stick to the rim of ...
Richard Chessick, John Gedo, James Grotstein and Vamik Voltan What darknesses have you lit up for me What depths of ...
Something spreading underground won't speak to us under skin won't declare itself not all life-forms want dialogue with the machine-gods ...
We who travel between worlds lose our muscle and bone. I was wheeling a barrow of earth when agony bayoneted ...
(To Edgar Lee Masters, with great respect) HERE upon the prarie Is our ancestral hall. Agate is the dome, Cornelian ...
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