Metabole. (Alfred Castner King Poems)
AN APOSTROPHE TO THE MOON.O, silvery moon, fair mistress of the night,Thou mellow, ever vaccilating orb,How many eons of unmeasured ...
AN APOSTROPHE TO THE MOON.O, silvery moon, fair mistress of the night,Thou mellow, ever vaccilating orb,How many eons of unmeasured ...
I stood upon a crowded thoroughfare,Within a city's confines, where were metAll classes and conditions, and surveyed,From a secluded niche ...
Wherever I wander, my spirit still dwells,In the silvery San Juan with its streamlet and dells;Whose mountainous summits, so rugged ...
Clink! Clink! Clink! The song of the hammer and drill!At the sound of the whistle so shrill and clear,He must ...
In the golden West, by fond Nature blest, Lies a vale which my heart holds dear;Where the zephyr blows from ...
Is there a Death? The light of dayAt eventide shall fade away;From out the sod's eternal gloomThe flowers, in their ...
Once more the merry Christmas bells, Are ringing far and wide;Their chime in rhythmic chorus swells, While every brazen ...
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