The Kelpie: A Scottish Legend (J S Poems)
"Kelpie's a river demon or a god,"Thus say the lexicons; I'll not belie 'em,For though I mind not in the ...
"Kelpie's a river demon or a god,"Thus say the lexicons; I'll not belie 'em,For though I mind not in the ...
The beating of the guns grows louder.'Not long, boys, now.'My heart burns whiter, fearfuller, prouder;Hurricanes growAs guns redouble their fire.Through ...
DEAR BEATRICE , with pleasure I read your kind letter;On the subject, methinks, there could scarce be a better:How vivid ...
Still flowed the music, flowed the wine. The youth in silence went;Through naked streets, in cold moonshine, His homeward way ...
Sweet Content, at the rich man's gate, Called, "Wilt thou let me in?" "No! thou art poor and thou art ...
Dot a dot dot dot a dot dot Spotting the windowpane. Spack a spack speck flick ...
A ROBIN in the morning,In the morning early,Sang a song of warning,"There'll be rain, there'll be rain."Very,very clearly From the ...
How long shall I tarnish the mirror of life, A spatter of rust on its polished steel! The seasons reel ...
1 A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of ...
Have at you, you Devils! My back's to this tree, For you're nothing so nice That the hind-side of me ...
Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in ...
Bhaskar Roy Barman The moment I close my eyes in meditation on the unfathomable I visualize golden fleeces of cloud ...
I sat on a low stone wall Watching the blue blood of the azaleas Spatter on Haworth's cobbles. A seamless ...
A ROBIN in the morning, In the morning early, Sang a song of warning, "There'll be rain, there'll be rain." ...
Let laureates sing with rapturous swing Of the wonder and glory of work; Let pulpiteers preach and with passion impeach ...
NEITHER rose leaves gathered in a jar-respectably in Boston-these-nor drops of Christ blood for a chalice-decently in Philadelphia or Baltimore. ...
THE MILK drops on your chin, Helga, Must not interfere with the cranberry red of your cheeks Nor the sky ...
I AM the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is done ...
ON the street Slung on his shoulder is a handle half way across, Tied in a big knot on the ...
THE SEA at its worst drives a white foam up, The same sea sometimes so easy and rocking with green ...
We were schooner-rigged and rakish, with a long and lissome hull, And we flew the pretty colours of the crossbones ...
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