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 ...
What means this gathering multitude, Upon thy shores, O, Galilee,As various as the billows rude That sweep thy ever restless ...
St. Regimund, e'er he became a saint,Was much imbued with vulgar earthly taint;E'er he renounced the honors of a KnightAnd ...
Hope is the shadowy essence of a wish, A fond desire which floats before our eyes;With lurid aberration, feverish,-- We ...
Within a vale in distant Saxony, In time uncertain, though 'twas long ago.There dwelt a woman, most unhappily, From borrowed ...
Clink! Clink! Clink! The song of the hammer and drill!At the sound of the whistle so shrill and clear,He must ...
I fear the palace of the rich, I fear the hovel of the poor;Though fortified by moat and ditch, The ...
When close by my bed the Death Angel shall stand And deliver his summons, at last;When my brow feels the ...
Almighty Power! Who through the past Our Nation's course has safely led;Behold again the sky o'ercast, Again is heard the ...
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