The Clay of My Witness (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
The salt of my walk the clay of my witness fill me with oil that I may be light A ...
The salt of my walk the clay of my witness fill me with oil that I may be light A ...
TO MISS GRACE KING Down in the old French quarter, Just out of Rampart street, I wend my way At ...
He strained my faith -- Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust -- Did it then -- yield? ...
Essential Oils -- are wrung -- The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Suns -- alone -- It ...
I heard a Fly buzz -- when I died -- The Stillness in the Room Was like the Stillness in ...
I was saddened just to hear the bitter rancour in his voice, a sour hostility aloof of commonsense, and ranks ...
My hands did numb to beauty as they reached into Death and tightened! O sovereign was my touch upon the ...
Lough, vessel, plough the British main, Seek the free ocean's wider plain; Leave English scenes and English skies, Unbind, dissever ...
I've quenched my lamp, I struck it in that start Which every limb convulsed, I heard it fall The crash ...
THE human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed; The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, ...
Matron! the children of whose love, Each to his grave, in youth have passed, And now the mould is heaped ...
There was a time, I need not name, Since it will ne'er forgotten be, When all our feelings were the ...
ADVERTISEMENT "The grand army of the Turks, (in 1715), under the Prime Vizier, to open to themselves a way into ...
'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede - Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to ...
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
I 'Tis done -- but yesterday a King! And arm'd with Kings to strive -- And now thou art a ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
Titan! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods ...
Si credere dignum est.--Virgil, Georgics, III, 390 Oh, worthy of belief I hold it was, Virgil, your legend in those ...
I Oh Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find! I can hardly misconceive you; it would prove me deaf ...
SAD thy tale, thou idle page, And rueful thy alarms: Death tears the brother of her love From Isabella's arms. ...
Mysterious death! who in a single hour Life's gold can so refine And by thy art divine Change mortal weakness ...
Under her dark veil she wrung her hands. "Why are you so pale today?" "Because I made him drink of ...
I wrung my hands under my dark veil. . . "Why are you pale, what makes you reckless?" -- Because ...
THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign; Of thy caprice maternal I complain. The peopled fold thy kindly care have found, ...
LATE crippl'd of an arm, and now a leg, About to beg a pass for leave to beg; Dull, listless, ...
THINE am I, my faithful Fair, Thine, my lovely Nancy; Ev'ry pulse along my veins, Ev'ry roving fancy. To thy ...
WHEN dear Clarinda, 1 matchless fair, First struck Sylvander's raptur'd view, He gaz'd, he listened to despair, Alas! 'twas all ...
I am like, They tell me, my dear father. Broader brows Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Of delicate ...
I. I stand on the mark beside the shore Of the first white pilgrim's bended knee, Where exile turned to ...
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