The Poem Of Imru al Qays (Imru al Qays ibn Hujr Poems)
Stop, oh my friends, let us pause to weep over the remembrance of my beloved.Here was her abode on the ...
Stop, oh my friends, let us pause to weep over the remembrance of my beloved.Here was her abode on the ...
She cometh to the seaward shrine, A mother, with her children three; And they have made the holy sign, And they have dropped ...
My heart grows sick before the wide-spread death,That walks and speaks in seeming life around;And I would love the corse ...
The wood is decked in light green leaf.The swallow twitters in delight.The lonely vine sheds joyous tearsOf interwoven dew and ...
But, when they were alone,--and now no more By that subduing presence overawed,-- With free tongue giving loose to wrath ...
While morning yet was young, within his hall Of justice Pharaoh sat: his princes, priests, Judges, and ministers, in costly ...
IIn Nino's chamber not a sound intrudesUpon the midnight's tingling silentness,Where Nino sits before his book and broods,Thin and brow-burdened ...
I. LINDSAY castle's jutted forth On the wild, old sounding sea,And a gallant race of the hardy North, ...
Stop, oh my friends, let us pause to weep over the remembrance of my beloved.Here was her abode on the ...
A GREAT black bird like to a great black cloudHovers forever o'er my spirit bowed.He is my guardian angel, but ...
Newmarket or St. Leger . . .Who, in the garden pony carrying skepsOf grass or fallen leaves, his knees gone ...
HAIL! sable queen of soft repose,Who bid'st the weary eyelids close,To Sleep's profoundest sway resign'd;Or, still more pleasing to the ...
NO more I long for April's fitful sheen, For little fluttering lives, that passed in June, For leaves and flowers, ...
THE sun ascends a cloudless sky,The moistening dews before him fly;How sweet to pace the fields at dawn,This mild, serene, ...
SPIK'D reed and golden Iris bending over Low-running streams, and that small pleading flower We none of us forget, with ...
From distant climes, o'er wide-spread seas we come, Though not with much eclat, or beat of drum,True patriots all, for ...
I. Soon Of all the springtimes of the world This one is the ugliest Of all of my ways of ...
Amber husk fluted with gold, fruit on the sand marked with a rich grain, treasure spilled near the shrub-pines to ...
(To Marcel Schwob in friendship and in admiration) In a dim corner of my room for longer than my fancy ...
Mad March, with the wind in his wings wide-spread, Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn's arch Hails re-risen again ...
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