Meadowsweet (William Allingham Poem)
Through grass, through amber'd cornfields, our slow Stream-- Fringed with its flags and reeds and rushes tall, And Meadowsweet, the ...
Through grass, through amber'd cornfields, our slow Stream-- Fringed with its flags and reeds and rushes tall, And Meadowsweet, the ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
And the just man trailed God's shining agent, over a black mountain, in his giant track, while a restless voice ...
So many stones have been thrown at me, That I'm not frightened of them anymore, And the pit has become ...
Yad Mordechai. Those who fell here still look out the windows like sick children who are not allowed outside to ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
'Twas August, and the fierce sun overhead Smote on the squalid streets of Bethnal Green, And the pale weaver, through ...
Cruising these residential Sunday streets in dry August sunlight: what offends us is the sanities: the houses in pedantic rows, ...
You take my hand and I'm suddenly in a bad movie, it goes on and on and why am I ...
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough, Learning his tuneful trade from ev'ry bough; The chanting linnet, or the ...
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon ...
The vision of Christ that thou dost see Is my vision's greatest enemy. Thine has a great hook nose like ...
Rudolph Reed was oaken. His wife was oaken too. And his two good girls and his good little man Oakened ...
we have everything and we have nothing and some men do it in churches and some men do it by ...
here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in drag here comes nothing to do all day long ...
They dont make it the beautiful die in flame- sucide pills,rat poison,rope what- ever... they rip their arms off, throw ...
call it the greenhouse effect or whatever but it just doesn't rain like it used to. I particularly remember the ...
at the track today, Father's Day, each paid admission was entitled to a wallet and each contained a little surprise. ...
Long walks at night-- that's what good for the soul: peeking into windows watching tired housewives trying to fight off ...
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus through North Carolina on ...
death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father's garage, how child-like I would brush the ...
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