The Poet’s Town (John Gneisenau Neihardt Poems)
I'MID glad green miles of tillageAnd fields where cattle graze,A prosy little village,You drowse away the days.And yet — a ...
I'MID glad green miles of tillageAnd fields where cattle graze,A prosy little village,You drowse away the days.And yet — a ...
"Pinch me; ay, punch me, for fear I m not sitting here reading the paper.Sure as the sun in the ...
"Tandem venias precamur Nube candentes humeros amictus Augur Apollo." Lord of the golden lyre Fraught with the Dorian fire, Oh! fair-haired child of Leto, come ...
The sea is calm to-night.The tide is full, the moon lies fairUpon the straits;—on the French coast the lightGleams and ...
I wonder if the spell, the mystery,That like a haze about your silence clings,Moulding your void until we seem to ...
Bold is the Muse to leave her humble Cell, And sing to thee, who know'st to sing so well: Thee! ...
Some of my friends (for friends I must suppose All, who, not daring to appear my foes, Feign great ...
Read by the poet at The Public Ceremonial of The National Institute of Arts and Letters at Carnegie Hall, New ...
To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While ...
To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame;While I confess thy ...
mon semblable, mon fr?re(1) Our epoch takes a voluptuous satisfaction In that perspective of the action Which pictures us inhabiting ...
THE monument outlasting bronze Was promised well by bards of old; The lucid outline of their lay Its sweet precision ...
A precious - mouldering pleasure - 'tis -To meet an Antique Book -In just the Dress his Century wore -A ...
Tempora labuntur, tacitisque senescimus annis, Et fugiunt freno non remorante dies. Ovid, Fastorum, Lib. vi. "O C?sar, we who are ...
To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess ...
So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them, And he said ...
Where once we danced, where once we sang, Gentlemen, The floors are sunken, cobwebs hang, And cracks creep; worms have ...
A precious -- mouldering pleasure -- 'tis -- To meet an Antique Book -- In just the Dress his Century ...
I I doubt if ten men in all Tilbury Town Had ever shaken hands with Captain Craig, Or called him ...
Read by the poet at The Public Ceremonial of The Naional Institute of Arts and Letters at Carnegie Hall, New ...
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