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 at sunrise, on the topmost partOf lofty mountain, massively sublime;A pinnacle of trachyte, seamed and scarredBy countless generations' ...
St. Regimund, e'er he became a saint,Was much imbued with vulgar earthly taint;E'er he renounced the honors of a KnightAnd ...
Within a vale in distant Saxony, In time uncertain, though 'twas long ago.There dwelt a woman, most unhappily, From borrowed ...
Within the precincts of a hospital, I wandered in a sympathetic mood;Where face to face with wormwood and with gall, ...
Wherever I wander, my spirit still dwells,In the silvery San Juan with its streamlet and dells;Whose mountainous summits, so rugged ...
As the shifting sands of the desert Are born by the simoon's wrath,And in wanton and fleet confusion, Are strewn ...
There is a cliff, no matter where, Which softened by the agenciesOf rain, exposure to the air, And alternating thaw ...
I love thee, my darling, both now and forever, My heart feels the thralldom of love's mystic spell,'Tis fettered with ...
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