The Argument Of His Book (Robert Herrick Poem)
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, ...
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, ...
The rhyme of the poet Modulates the king's affairs, Balance-loving nature Made all things in pairs. To every foot its ...
I Thy trivial harp will never please Or fill my craving ear; Its chords should ring as blows the breeze, ...
I like the old house tolerably well, Where I must dwell Like a familiar gnome; And yet I never shall ...
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip Of sullen light, no obscure ...
Throughout the course of the generations men constructed the night. At first she was blindness; thorns raking bare feet, fear ...
MOTHER of memories, mistress of mistresses, O thou, my pleasure, thou, all my desire, Thou shalt recall the beauty of ...
Cumhal called out, bending his head, Till Dathi came and stood, With a blink in his eyes, at the cave-mouth, ...
How I love the working-class girls of Leeds, Their mile-wide smiles, eyes bright as beads, Their young breasts bobbing as ...
I Who would be A mermaid fair, Singing alone, Combing her hair Under the sea, In a golden curl With ...
'The Bull, the Fleece are cramm'd, and not a room For love or money. Let us picnic there At Audley ...
THREE tailors of Tooley Street wrote: We, the People. The names are forgotten. It is a joke in ghosts. Cutters ...
WE woke from our sleep in the bosom where cradled together we lay: The love of the dark hidden Father ...
The lemon sunlight poured out far between things inhabits a coolness. Mosquitoes have subsided, flies are for later heat. Every ...
Shut from the clamor of the street By an old wall with lichen grown, It holds apart from jar and ...
Ho, come out with the wind of spring, And step it blithely in woodlands waking; Friend am I of each ...
Come back to me, little dancing feet that roam the wide world o'er, I long for the lilt of your ...
They may rail at this life -- from the hour I began it I found it a life full of ...
So swift the hours are moving Unto the time unproved: Farewell my love unloving, Farewell my love beloved! What! are ...
Hills of silver plate, grey heights, dark red rocks through which the Duero bends its crossbow arc round Soria, shadowed ...
I. Sunrise. In my sleep I was fain of their fellowship, fain Of the live-oak, the marsh, and the main. ...
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