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 ...
You say there's a Being all-loving, Whose nature is justice and pity; Could you say where you ...
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 ...
Dull, yellow, heavy, lustreless-- With less of radiance than the burnished tress, Crumpled on Beauty's forehead: cloddish, cold, ...
Do you hear the women praying, oh my brothers? Do you hear what words they say? These, ...
I cannot find the meaning out That lies in wrong and pain and strife; I know not ...
Sphinx, down whose rugged face The sliding centuries their furrows cleave By sun and frost and cloud-burst; scarce ...
In the deep woods of Mexico, Where screams the "painted paraquet," And mocking-birds flit to and fro, ...
Behold my soul? She sits so far above you Your wildest dream has never glanced so high; ...
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