Custer: Book Second (Ella Wheeler Wilcox Poems)
IOh, for the power to call to aid, of mineOwn humble Muse, the famed and sacred nine.Then might she fitly ...
IOh, for the power to call to aid, of mineOwn humble Muse, the famed and sacred nine.Then might she fitly ...
IAs in the long dead days marauding hostsOf Indians came from far Siberian coasts,And drove the peaceful Aztecs from their ...
And now, when poets are singing Their songs of olden days, And now, when the land is ringing With sweet ...
IAll valor died not on the plains of Troy.Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joyTo sing of deeds as ...
There was a sound in the wind to-day,Like a joyous cymbal ringing!And the leaves of the trees talked with the ...
Flowers of France in the Spring,Your growth is a beautiful thing;But give us your fragrance and bloom,Yea, give us your ...
The world was widowed by the death of Christ:Vainly its suffering soul for peace has soughtAnd found it not.For nothing, ...
A CURIOUS vision, on mine eyes unfurledIn the deep night. I saw, or seemed to see,Two Centuries meet, and sit ...
Last was the wealth I carried in life's pack—Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust but TimeAnd Fate, those robbers fit ...
A mother kneels by the cradle,Where her little infant lies,And she sees the ghastly shadowsCreeping around his eyes.And she clasps ...
A little time agone, a few brief years,And there was peace within our beauteous borders;Peace, and a prosperous people, and ...
Into the world's most high and holy placesMen carry selfishness, and graft and greed.The air is rent with warring of ...
The man of God stands, on the Sabbath-day,Warning the sinners from the broad highwayThat leads to death. He rolls his ...
I saw them sitting in the shade;The long green vines hung over,But could not hide the gold-haired maidAnd Earl, my ...
ISaid Life to Death: "Methinks, if I were you, I would not carry such an awesome face To terrify the ...
False! Good God, I am dreaming!No, no, it never can be—You who are so true in seeming,You, false to your ...
There's a terrible steed that rests not night nor day,But onward and onward, for ever away,Through hamlet, through village, through ...
In Nature's bright blossoms not always reposesThat strange subtle essence more rare than their bloom,Which lies in the hearts of ...
I saw the farmer, when the day was done,And the proud sun had sought his crimson bed,And the mild stars ...
What are these nameless mysteries,These subtleties of life and death,That bring before our spirit eyesThe loved and lost; or, like ...
Dying? I am not dying. Are you mad?You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?I think you are a ...
IThere is no picturesqueness and no glory,No halo of romance, in war to-day.It is a hideous thing; Time would turn ...
Here is a lock of his soft, dark hair,And here are the letters he wrote to me.And the ring of ...
My babe was moaning in its sleep,I leaned and kissed it where it lay,My pain was such I could not ...
Time's finger on the dial of my lifePoints to high noon! and yet the half-spent dayLeaves less than half remaining, ...
I have been down in the darkest water—Deep, deep down where no light could pierce;Alone with the things that are ...
Veils, everywhere float veils; veils long and black,Framing white faces, oft-times young and fair,But, like a rose touched by untimely ...
When the first sere leaves of the year were falling,I heard, with a heart that was strangely thrilled,Out of the ...
Give us a call! We keep good beer,Wine, and brandy, and whiskey here;Our doors are open to boys and men,And ...
On the white throat of useless passionThat scorched my soul with its burning breathI clutched my hands in murderous fashion,And ...
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