The Poet’s Ministers (Frances Fuller Victor Poems)
Poet Oh, my soul! the draught is bitter Yet it must be sweetly drunken: Heart and ...
Poet Oh, my soul! the draught is bitter Yet it must be sweetly drunken: Heart and ...
Tell me, mother Nature! tender yet stern mother! In what nomenclature (fitlier than another) Can I laud and ...
Sweet, kiss my eyelids close, and let me lie, On this old-fashioned sofa, in the dim And purple ...
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, ...
The crimson color lays As bright as beauty's blush along the West; And a warm golden ...
What tellest thou to heaven, Thou royal tropic tree? At morn or noon or even, Proud dweller ...
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