The Anarchist. (Arthur Henry Adams Poems)
THE dawn hangs heavy on the distant hill,The darkness shudders slowly into light;And from the weary bosom of the nightThe ...
THE dawn hangs heavy on the distant hill,The darkness shudders slowly into light;And from the weary bosom of the nightThe ...
When Allenby's Army smashed the TurkWho was the bloke who did all the workThe Aussie knows and he'll tell you ...
Wellington.HERE, where the surges of a world of seaBreak on our bastioned walls with league-long sweep,Four fair young queens their ...
PEACE, your little child is dead:Peace, I cannot weep with you;I have no more tears to shed;I have mourned my ...
She lies, a grave disdain all her defence, Too imperturbable for scorn. She hears Only the murmur of the flowing ...
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