A Winter’s Tale For The Little Ones. (Gerald Massey Poems)
A MERRY sound of clapping hands, A call to see the sight;And lo! the first soft snow-flakes fall,So exquisitely virginal:'Tis my ...
A MERRY sound of clapping hands, A call to see the sight;And lo! the first soft snow-flakes fall,So exquisitely virginal:'Tis my ...
IFORLORN and white,Whorls of purity about a golden chalice,Immense the peoniesFlare and shatter their petals over my face.They slowly turn ...
Once more the June with her great moon Poured harvest o'er the golden fields; Once more her days in hot, bright shields She ...
What am I, and what is he Who can cull and tear a heart, As one might a rose for sport In its ...
When the sands grow cool, and the lazy tideSwings heavy 'gainst the shore,Leaning its waves in languorous easeTo the curve ...
Winds carve this landAnd velvet whorls of sandAnnul footprint and graveOf lover, fool and knave.Briefly the vetches bloomIn the blind ...
YES, found at last,--the earthly paradise!Here by slow currents of the silvery streamIt smiles, a shining wonder, a fair dream,A ...
SEE his black nose snubbed back, pressed over like a whale's blow-holes,As if his nostrils were going to curve ...
In Memory Of. In Fondest Recollection Of. In Loving Memory Of. In Fond Remembrance. Died in October. Died at Sea. ...
SHE is hot to the sea that crouches beside, Human and hot to the cool stars peering down, My passionate ...
Eyes aloft, over dangerous places, The children follow the butterflies, And, in the sweat of their upturned faces, Slash with ...
Gods, what a black, fierce day! The clouds were iron, Wrenched to strange, rugged shapes; the red sun winked Over ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
In my first sleep I came to the river And looked down Through the clear water - Only in dream ...
It snowed and snowed ,the whole world over, Snow swept the world from end to end. A candle burned on ...
Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn The language of the trees. That's done indoors, Out of ...
They are, the surfaces, gorgeous: a master pastry chef at work here, the dips and whorls, the wrist-twist squeezes of ...
"So pulse, and pulse, thou rhythmic-hearted Noon That liest, large-limbed, curved along the hills, In languid palpitation, half a-swoon With ...
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