Parrhasius (Nathaniel Parker Willis Poems)
There stood an unsold captive in the mart,a gray-haired and majestical old man,chained to a pillar. It was almost night,and ...
There stood an unsold captive in the mart,a gray-haired and majestical old man,chained to a pillar. It was almost night,and ...
UNDER the great hill sloping bareTo cove and meadow and Common lot,In his council chamber and oaken chair,Sat the worshipful ...
May has come from out the showers,Sun and splendor in her train.All the grasses and the flowersWaken up to life ...
"HE is false to the heart!" she said, stern-lipped; "he is all untruth;He promises fair as a tree in blossom, ...
A SONG OF EXILEA withered shamrock, yet to me 'tis fair As the sweet rose to other eyes might be,Because its ...
1Stiff work for hands or will, they drovetheir brig southward. Science asked them assignplanet and land-mass place where none was ...
You that have snarled through the ages, take your answer and go--I know your hoary question, the riddle that all ...
On the next morrow, early, rose the king; And sat upon his throne: at his right hand, The heroic queen: ...
IThe sister Hours in circles linked,Daughters of men, of men the mates,Are gone on flow with the day that winked,With ...
Who murmurs, hither, hither: whoWhere nought is audible so fills the ear?Where nought is visible can make appearA veil with ...
Here, down between the dusty trees, At this lank edge of haggard wood,Women with labour-loosened knees, With gaunt ...
1 Who'll be honoured and praised,who'll be ...
Death, from thy rigour a voice appealed,And men still hear what the sweet cry saith,Crying aloud in thine ears fast ...
The senses loving Earth or well or illRavel yet more the riddle of our lot.The mind is in their trammels, ...
Fishermen at Ballyshannon Netted an infant last night Along with the salmon. An illegitimate spawning, A small one thrown back ...
I often pause to wonder of the two sides of the man from the Balkans who graced my life with ...
Why is this age worse than earlier ages? In a stupor of grief and dread have we not fingered the ...
Here, down between the dusty trees, At this lank edge of haggard wood, Women with labour-loosened knees, With gaunt backs ...
Death, from thy rigour a voice appealed, And men still hear what the sweet cry saith, Crying aloud in thine ...
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