Seascape (Francis Brett Young Poems)
Over that morn hung heaviness, until,Near sunless noon, we heard the ship's bell beatingA melancholy staccato on dead metal;Saw the ...
Over that morn hung heaviness, until,Near sunless noon, we heard the ship's bell beatingA melancholy staccato on dead metal;Saw the ...
(In the south of Italy the peasants put out the eyes of a captured quailso that its cries may attract ...
Out of that high pavilionWhere the sick, wind-harassed sunIn the whiteness of the dayGhostly shone and stole away--Parched with the ...
Before my window, in days of winter hoarHuddled a mournful wood:Smooth pillars of beech, domed chestnut, sycamore,In stony sleep they ...
Arthur is gone . . . Tristram in CareolSleeps, with a broken sword - and Yseult sleepsBeside him, where the ...
When the evening came my love said to me: Let us go into the garden now that the sky is ...
These winter days on LettermoreThe brown west wind it sweeps the bay,And icy rain beats on the bareUnhomely fields that ...
Whither, O, my sweet mistress, must I follow thee? For when I hear thy distant footfall nearing, And wait on ...
Were there lovers in the lanes of Atlantis:Meeting lips and twining fingersIn the mild Atlantis springtime? How ...
This is the image of my last content: My soul shall be a little lonely lake, So hidden that no ...
The robin on my lawnHe was the first to tellHow, in the frozen dawn,This miracle befell,Waking the meadows whiteWith hoar, ...
All through that day of battle the broken soundOf shattering Maxim fore made mad the wood;So that the low trees ...
Marching on Tanga, marching the parched plainOf wavering spear-grass by Pangani river,England came to me -- me who had always ...
Why have you stolen my delight In all the golden shows of SpringWhen every cherry-tree is white And in the ...
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