Our Profession (Jared Barhite Poems)
There's an art in our profession, Which cannot be wholly learned From all books in our possession, Though their leaves be deftly turned Till ...
There's an art in our profession, Which cannot be wholly learned From all books in our possession, Though their leaves be deftly turned Till ...
They will walk there, the sons of our great grandsons andWill know no reason for the old love of the ...
You call authority "a grievous thing."With careless hands you snap the leading string,And, for a frolic (so it seems ...
I In Casterbridge there stood a noble pile, Wrought with pilaster, bay, and balustrade In tactful times when shrewd Eliza ...
Marking time in pencil strokes across a virgin page and waiting for coincidence of heart-beat and second-hand, keying to the ...
(For G. H.) Say, does that stupid earth Where they have laid her, Bind still her sullen mirth, Mirth which ...
I I have loved England, dearly and deeply, Since that first morning, shining and pure, The white cliffs of Dover ...
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