White Nassau (Bliss Carman Poem)
There is fog upon the river, there is mirk upon the town; You can hear the groping ferries as they ...
There is fog upon the river, there is mirk upon the town; You can hear the groping ferries as they ...
We are the vagabonds of time, And rove the yellow autumn days, When all the roads are gray with rime ...
I The rutted roads are all like iron; skies Are keen and brilliant; only the oak-leaves cling In the bare ...
TO the assembled folk At great St. Kavin's spoke Young Brother Amiel on Christmas Eve; I give you joy, my ...
I Soul, what art thou in the tribes of the sea? LORD, said a flying fish, Below the foundations of ...
I like the old house tolerably well, Where I must dwell Like a familiar gnome; And yet I never shall ...
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