The Painter Of Florence (Ernest Jones Poems)
THERE'S a mansion old 'mid the hills of the west,So old, that men know not by whom it was built;But ...
THERE'S a mansion old 'mid the hills of the west,So old, that men know not by whom it was built;But ...
I. LINDSAY castle's jutted forth On the wild, old sounding sea,And a gallant race of the hardy North, ...
AMID the bright'ning glories of the earth,I watched a humble floweret from its birth;'Twas a pale blossom and a simple ...
The nations are all calling To and fro, from strand to strand;Uniting in one army The slaves of ...
In a cottage on a moor Famine's feeble children cried;The frost knocked sharply at the door, And hunger ...
LEAWOOD HALL,A Chistmas Tale. IN a cottage on a moor Famine's feeble children cried;The frost knocked sharply at the ...
TO MY READERS,-MY Life has been a wild, strange life,Now lulled in love-now wrapt in strife;I've had my dreams as ...
The night had sunk along the city, It was a bleak and cheerless hour;The wild-winds sung their solemn ditty ...
The wind! the wind plays o'er the prison-bar, Still fresh from kissing the green forest-leaves;Rending the wheat-fields in the ...
A CHILD of the hard-hearted world was I, And a worldling callous of heart,And eager to play with the ...
DARKNESS on the endless sea; A wild, wild wailing cry;And the sun came down-like a ...
A Legend of Windsor A song for the Queen! our gracious Queen, Who giveth her subjects bread!Paupers! throw up ...
THE midnight hour is passing-the sunrise is at handThe watchers on the mountain tops are looking o'er the land,The world ...
Gag-gag-gag!Is the cry of the traitor band, While they try, with a printed rag, ...
They told me 'twas a fearful thing to pine in prison lone: ...
We are dead, and we are buried!Revolution's soul is tame!They are merry o'er our ashes,And our tyrants rule the same!But ...
THE God of Freedom bless,With strength for self-redress, The People's might;The cause of man to save,Arouse each ...
SHARPEN the sickle! The fields are white, 'Tis the time of the harvest at last;Reapers! be up with the ...
Written in the Infirmary of Westminster Prison,during severe illness, November, 1849. We all have our allotted task; Their burden ...
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