For The Carrier Of The Mirror. 1826 (John Gardiner Calkins Brainard Poems)
The carrier is a poor old man-See his gray locks, his wrinkles scan,Look at him and admire!His coat is thin, ...
The carrier is a poor old man-See his gray locks, his wrinkles scan,Look at him and admire!His coat is thin, ...
DAUGHTER Of Crete, how one brief hour,E'en in thy young love's early morn,Sends storm and darkness o'er thy bower, -O ...
I treasure in secret some long, fine hair Of tenderest brown, but so inwardly goldenI half used to fancy the sunshine ...
O Love! the mischief thou hast done!Thou god of pleasure and of pain!--None can escape thee--yes there's one--All others find ...
Come to the woods in June,'T is happiness to roveWhen Nature's lyres are all in tune,And life all full of ...
LIKE a worn wind-harp on a barren lea,Unstirred by subtle breathings of the sea,Though sweet south-breezes swell the floodtide's flow,The ...
The threads our hands in blindness spinNo self-determined plan weaves in;The shuttle of the unseen powersWorks out a pattern not ...
The wind-harp has music it moans to the tree,And so has the shell that complains to the sea,The lark that ...
The star of love now shines above, Cool zephyrs crisp the sea;Among the leaves the wind-harp weaves Its serenade for thee.The star, ...
To G.E.M.'Tis a little room, my friend—Baby walks from end to end;All the things look sadly realThis hot noontide unideal;Vaporous ...
'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence nowIs brooding like a gentle spirit o'erThe still and pulseless world. Hark! on the ...
Who can bring healing to her heart's despair, Her whole rich sum of happiness lies there! ~ CROLY. Pale is ...
A lady asks the Minstrel's rhyme. A lady asks? There was a timeWhen, musical as play-bell's chimeTo wearied boy,That sound ...
Honor to woman! To her it is givenTo garden the earth with the roses of heaven! All blessed, she linketh ...
HOW Memory haunts us! When we fain would be Alone and free, Uninterrupted by his mournful words, Faint, indistinct, as ...
HER Leghorn hat was of the bright gold tintThe setting sunbeams give to autumn clouds;The ribband that encircled it as ...
"ONCE more, once more, my Mary dear, I sit by that lone stream, Where first within thy timid ear I ...
Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment on the carved head of Saint John, ...
I like the old house tolerably well, Where I must dwell Like a familiar gnome; And yet I never shall ...
Barbarous insult to Yeats' memory and Claudel's Allen, thank God you are dead, you who breathed the air of Apollinaire, ...
Honor to woman! To her it is given To garden the earth with the roses of heaven! All blessed, she ...
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