The Brus Book VII (John Barbour Poems)
The king towart the wod is ganeWery forswayt and will of waneIntill the wod sone ...
The king towart the wod is ganeWery forswayt and will of waneIntill the wod sone ...
Thanne as I wente by the way, whan I was thus awaked,Hevy chered I yede, and elenge in herte;For I ...
Ah, Almon Keefer! what a boy you were,With your back-tilted hat and careless hair,And open, honest, fresh, fair face and ...
It is dark… so dark, I remember the sun on Chios…It is still… so still, I hear the beat of ...
I wonder if the spell, the mystery,That like a haze about your silence clings,Moulding your void until we seem to ...
A barefooted child on the crossing,Sweeping the mud away,A lady in silks and diamonds,Proud of the vain display;A beggar blind ...
This love, that dares not warm before its flameOur yearning hands, or from its tempting treeYield fruit we may consume, ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake ...
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