For Fasting Days (Muriel Stuart Poems)
Are you my songs, importunate of praise?Be still, remember for your comfortingThat sweeter birds have had less leave to singBefore ...
Are you my songs, importunate of praise?Be still, remember for your comfortingThat sweeter birds have had less leave to singBefore ...
'T is true, one half of woman's life is hopeAnd one half resignation. Between there liesAnguish of broken dreams,--doubt, dire ...
How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the African monarch, the splendid,As down to his death in the hollow Dark dungeons of ...
Proemion.Immeasurable Earth!Through the loud vast and populacy of Heaven,Tempested with gold schools of ponderous orbs,That cleav'st with deep-revolting harmoniesPassage perpetual, ...
No cloud to dim the splendour of the dayWhich breaks o'er Naples and her lovely bay,And lights that brilliant sea ...
Why should we court the storms that rave and rend, Safe at our household hearth? Why, starved and naked, ...
Last was the wealth I carried in life's pack—Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust but TimeAnd Fate, those robbers fit ...
I am the king of a wide domain, and you deem it a wonderful thing;But the kingly height is a ...
As virtuous Souls when they depart away, And leave their loved Bodies here alone, In Rest abide, until the joyful ...
GRAY-HEADED POETS, whom the full years blessWith life and health and chance still multipliedTo hold your forward course - fame ...
O WHO are thou with that queenly brow And uncrowned head? And why is the vest that binds thy breast, ...
The Spirit of Darkness, the Prince of the Power of the Air,The terror that walketh by night, and the horror ...
We will be what we could be. Do not say, "It might have been, had not this, or that, or ...
When, with low moanings on the distant shore, Like vain regrets, the ocean-tide is rolled: When, thro' bare ...
O World, I owe thee nothing; I have had Not even my wages from thy niggard hand, For all I ...
A snake came to my water-trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat, To drink ...
How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the African monarch, the splendid, As down to his death in the hollow ...
Bhaskar Roy Barman The kaleidoscope stood befrilled with splendour; no messenger from on high did descend to hand it blessings, ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
We will be what we could be. Do not say, "It might have been, had not this, or that, or ...
Fear, like a living fire that only death Might one day cool, had now in Avon's eyes Been witness for ...
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