Tiare Tahiti (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Mamua, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or ...
Mamua, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or ...
Here in the dark, O heart; Alone with the enduring Earth, and Night, And Silence, and the warm strange smell ...
This youth too long has heard the break Of waters in a land of change. He goes to see what ...
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
Thin as a sheet his mother came to him during the screaming evenings after he did it, touched F.J.'s dead ...
Some good people, daring & subtle voices and their tense faces, as I think of it I see sank underground. ...
But do not let us quarrel any more, No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for once: Sit down and all ...
A PICTURE AT FANO. I. Dear and great Angel, wouldst thou only leave That child, when thou hast done with ...
I Where the quiet-coloured end of evening smiles Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our sheep Half-asleep Tinkle ...
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
At four o'clock in the gun-metal blue dark we hear the first crow of the first cock just below the ...
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead; His pipe hangs mute beside the river Around it wistful sunbeams quiver, But ...
Per me si va ne la citt? dolente, per me si va ne l'etterno dolore, per me si va tra ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
Making love in the sun, in the morning sun in a hotel room above the alley where poor men poke ...
I. Where the quiet-coloured end of evening smiles, Miles and miles On the solitary pastures where our sheep Half-asleep Tinkle ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories