Sonnet I (Brooke Boothby Poems)
Life's summer flown, the wint'ry tempest rude, Began to lower on the declining year; When smiles celestial gilt the prospect ...
Life's summer flown, the wint'ry tempest rude, Began to lower on the declining year; When smiles celestial gilt the prospect ...
What art thou, Life? The shadow of a dream: The past and future dwell in thought alone; The present, ere ...
Well has thy classick chisel, Banks*, express'd The graceful lineaments of that fine form, Which late with conscious, living beauty ...
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