The Vagabonds (Bliss Carman Poem)
We are the vagabonds of time, And rove the yellow autumn days, When all the roads are gray with rime ...
We are the vagabonds of time, And rove the yellow autumn days, When all the roads are gray with rime ...
TO the assembled folk At great St. Kavin's spoke Young Brother Amiel on Christmas Eve; I give you joy, my ...
I I heard the spring wind whisper Above the brushwood fire, "The world is made forever Of transport and desire. ...
(Sappho LXXIV) If death be good, Why do the gods not die? If life be ill, Why do the gods ...
I like the old house tolerably well, Where I must dwell Like a familiar gnome; And yet I never shall ...
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