The Monk (Archibald Lampman Poems)
IIn Nino's chamber not a sound intrudesUpon the midnight's tingling silentness,Where Nino sits before his book and broods,Thin and brow-burdened ...
IIn Nino's chamber not a sound intrudesUpon the midnight's tingling silentness,Where Nino sits before his book and broods,Thin and brow-burdened ...
Subtly conscious, all awake,Let us clear our eyes, and breakThrough the cloudy chrysalis,See the wonder as it is.Down a narrow ...
Hear me, Brother, gently met;Just a little, turn, not yet,Thou shalt laugh, and soon forget:Now the midnight draweth near.I have ...
In days, when the fruit of men's labour was sparing,And hearts were weary and nigh to break,A sweet grave man ...
Why weep ye in your innocent toil at all?Sweet little hands, why halt and tremble so?Full many a wrong note ...
Sweet summer is gone; they have laid her away—The last sad hours that were touched with her grace—In the hush ...
When saw I yesterday walking apartIn a leafy place where the cattle wait?Something to keep for a charm in my ...
The sun falls warm: the southern winds awake:The air seethes upwards with a steamy shiver:Each dip of the road is ...
O doubts, dull passions, and base fears,That harassed and oppressed the day,Ye poor remorses and vain tears,That shook this house ...
Why do ye call the poet lonely,Because he dreams in lonely places?He is not desolate, but onlySees, where ye cannot, ...
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