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 ...
IAll valor died not on the plains of Troy.Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joyTo sing of deeds as ...
The gate was thrown open, I rode out alone,More proud than a monarch who sits on a throne.I am but ...
The sun rode high in a cloudless skyOf a perfect summer morn.She stood and gazed out into the street,And wondered ...
Once over the ocean in distant lands,In an age long past, were two hostile bands—Two armies of men, both brave, ...
The world has crowned a thousand kings:But destiny has keptHer weightiest hour of kingly powerTo offer England's son.The rising bell ...
We met at night in the season's hight,Mid revel and mirth and song.I looked in your eye with a mute, ...
Three Souls there were that reached the Heavenly Gate,And gained permission of the Guard to wait.Barred from the bliss of ...
Toward even when the day leans down, To kiss the upturned face of night, Out just beyond the ...
There sat two glasses, filled to the brim, On a rich man's table, rim to rim. One was ruddy and ...
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 ...
Dying? I am not dying. Are you mad?You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?I think you are a ...
Oh many a duel the world has seenThat was bittter with hate, that was red with gore,But I sing of ...
Time's finger on the dial of my lifePoints to high noon! and yet the half-spent dayLeaves less than half remaining, ...
Well, how has it been with you since we metThat last strange time of a hundred times?When we met to ...
Nay seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore,Nor question that the tenor of my life,Past, present and the future, ...
You remember the hall on the corner?To-night as I walked down streetI heard the sound of music,And the rhythmic beat ...
In Memory's Mansion are wonderful rooms,And I wander about them at will;And I pause at the casements, where boxes of ...
Yes, yes! I love thee, Guilo; thee alone.Why dost thou sigh, and wear that face of sorrow?The sunshine is to-day's, ...
I am troubled to-night with a curious pain;It is not of the flesh, it is not of the brain,Nor yet ...
Oh, boastful, wicked land, that once was beautiful and great,How bitter and how black must be your self-invited fate,While Time ...
You will forget me. The years are so tender,They bind up the wounds which we think are so deep,This dream ...
Good-bye to the cradle, the dear wooden cradleThe rude hand of Progress has thrust it aside.No more to its motion ...
Over my desk in a dark office bending.Dim seems the sunlight and dull seems the day;But when the afternoon draws ...
I shall not forget you. The years may be tender,But vain are their efforts to soften my smart;And the strong ...
GOOD-BY to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle, The rude hand of Progress has thrust it aside: No more to ...
In England, there are wrongs no doubt,Which should be righted; so men say,Who seek to weed earth's garden out,And give ...
Wherefore in dreams are sorrows borne anew,A healed wound opened, or the past revived?Last night in my deep sleep I ...
We are younger in years! Yes, that is true;But in some things we are older than you.For instance, you sometimes ...
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