Aspasia (Frances Fuller Victor Poems)
O, ye Athenians, drunken with self-praise, What dreams I had of you, beside the sea, In far ...
O, ye Athenians, drunken with self-praise, What dreams I had of you, beside the sea, In far ...
Sweet, kiss my eyelids close, and let me lie, On this old-fashioned sofa, in the dim And purple ...
Dull, yellow, heavy, lustreless-- With less of radiance than the burnished tress, Crumpled on Beauty's forehead: cloddish, cold, ...
Nay, Hylas, I have come To where life's landscape takes a western slope, And breezes from the occidental ...
Do thy chamber windows open east, Beloved, as did ours of old? And do you stand when ...
I lay me down straight, with closed eyes, And pale hands folded across my breast, Thinking, unpained, ...
There sinks the sun; like cavalier of old, Servant of crafty Spain, He flaunts his banner, barred ...
Behold my soul? She sits so far above you Your wildest dream has never glanced so high; ...
O wild November wind, blow back to me The withered leaves, that drift adown the past; Waft ...
I sang a song of olden times, Sitting upon our sacred hill-- Sang it to feel ...
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