The Muses Threnodie: Second Muse (Henry Adamson Poems)
But this sad melancholick disquisition,Did not befit our jovial disposition,In these our days; therefore when we had mournedFor this good ...
But this sad melancholick disquisition,Did not befit our jovial disposition,In these our days; therefore when we had mournedFor this good ...
Bright must they be, for there are none that die,And none that weep, and none that say farewell.Mrs. Hemans.LEAVES may ...
What if we still carry shame on our forehead,Marks of the whip, signs of bondage abhorrent;What if remembrance of infamous ...
WHERE streams of light, in golden showers,First fell on long lost Eden's bowers,And music, from the shouting skies,Wandered to Eve's ...
I like not tears in tune, nor do I prize His artificial grief that scans his eyes; Mine weep down pious beads, ...
YES, ye are few, - and they were few,Who daring storm and sea,Once raised upon old Plymouth rock"The anthem of ...
Since, Sir, on the Alphabet, lately 'tis grownThe Fashion to spread our Wit about Town,My Horn--book once more I shall ...
No one is safe. The streets are unsafe.even in the safety zones, it's not safe.Even safe sex is not safe.Even ...
LEONIDAS of Sparta, years gone by,With but a bare three hundred of his braves,In the ravine of famed ThermopylaeHeld up ...
Who says that power is bliss? The gloryBought by a million's blood for oneTo reign, to die, yet live in ...
COME , SESTOS and ABYDOS , aid my song;To you these elegiac strains belong.Your griefs with mine, ye wretched cities, ...
, The wrathful winter, 'proaching on apace, With blustering blasts had all ybar'd the treen, And old Saturnus, ...
My country, I the walls, the arches see, The columns, statues, and the towers Deserted, of our ancestors; But, ah, ...
What is sound, as standing for the world and the mind of man at any time, and in ...
When the proud monarch, from the hill-top, sawThe plains beneath him covered with his troops,And, on the sea beyond, his ...
The continent's a tamed ox, with all its mountains, Powerful and servile; here is for plowland, here is for park ...
No spring nor summer Beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one autumnall face. Young beauties force our ...
THOU, Liberty, thou art my theme; Not such as idle poets dream, Who trick thee up a heathen goddess That ...
I AM an ancient reluctant conscript. On the soup wagons of Xerxes I was a cleaner of pans. On the ...
Well, Bokardo, here we are; Make yourself at home. Look around-you haven't far To look-and why be dumb? Not the ...
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how He, in the serpent, had perverted ...
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