The Quest Of The Queen (Cicely Fox Smith Poems)
All on a windy morn in lusty March,Rode Godwin hawking thro' his father's woodsAnd singing as he rode: stalwart was ...
All on a windy morn in lusty March,Rode Godwin hawking thro' his father's woodsAnd singing as he rode: stalwart was ...
In the days when every seaport had its figureheads to show —Queens, princesses, sea-nymphs, witches, girls of all sorts, row ...
It was the steamship Dinkinbar,From the Gulf of MexicoFor Liverpool in time of warWith a thousand mules below,And a bunch ...
Twelve o' the clock! the nightmare hours Crawl through my brain like years;All the hot sleepless night I hear ...
Now 'ere's a yarn as is true, said Dan, "An' you can't say that o' most:I was in the packet ...
"Sailor, Sailor, why did you go — Why did you go for a sailor?Why didn't ...
I MOTHER of ...
Some likes pictures o' women, said Bill, "an' some like 'orses best,"As he fitted a pair of fancy shackles on ...
Oh, there's places up and down that are queer and quaint and pretty;Sydney's a pleasant port, Frisco's a giddy city;But ...
Thro' the roaring dark of the tempest We had struggled the whole night long,With seas that broke on the ...
I don't know who Saint Mawes was, but he surely can't have beenA stiff old stone gazebo on a carved ...
If you 'ave lost your 'aversack, your kit-bag or your pipe,Your 'ousewife, soap or oily rag with which you clean ...
When the time comes, as it will, that I go to sea no longer — Though maybe, please the ...
Why do you smile so glad, sons of the English? Why do your eyes gaze forward, happy and glowing?"Only ...
I think some spiteful fairyMy natal day did graceAnd leave me for a dowryA sympathetic face.Or why do people tell ...
If I might leave this harbour, if I might cross the sea,'Tis I that know full well where a little ...
I don't aspire to be a person of wealth and leisure,Such as one sees on the screen.With lackeys in livery ...
O I stood by the watersideAnd heard the stream run by.I saw the gnarled trees stand darkAgainst the pale gold ...
When as I hear my Julia playUpon the oboe, oft I sayWell pleased were I if I might sitHour-long by ...
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