The Banks O’ Turkey Run (Freeman Edwin Miller Poems)
Like a thousan' birds o' brightness from the isles o' summer seas, Rickollections, full o' gladness, come with songs and ...
Like a thousan' birds o' brightness from the isles o' summer seas, Rickollections, full o' gladness, come with songs and ...
Oklahoma! Oklahoma! Land, O, land of the Fair God, Land where ancient, savage races Through barbarian ages trod! ...
The brazen bells of laughing lands In swelling echoes wildly ring, And over seas and ...
Wild years that are to be The sad completion of my weary life, In ghostly mantles of despairing strife Your ...
Let nations encircle the brows of the brave With glory the greatest that glitters below, Who make in the ...
If Love were king, That sacred Love which knows not selfish pleasure, But for its children spends its fondest treasure, ...
Make the most of this life; where the shadow reposes The beams of the summer shall gather in glee, ...
Glad winters on the olden farm! How raptures from those early times Commingle into fairy chimes Which gently ...
Nature has a thousand choirs Singing in the sylvan shadows, And the music of her lyres Echoes in ...
Love, thou gayest fancy-weaver, Heart-betrayer, soul-deceiver, Come with all thy clinging kisses; Bringing all thy beaming blisses; It may serve ...
Away, away, from the sultry ways Where the pleasures fall and fade, To the bannered corn and the meadowed ...
If we but knew the weary way, The poisoned paths of hostile hate, The roughened roads of fiercest ...
Sweet fairies from the isles of song, Bewitching choirs from music land, The pleasures of your wondrous band ...
They will find in this life who are grieved with its gladness No songs for the heart and no ...
A song for the willow, the wild weeping willow, That murmurs a dirge to the rapturous days, And moans ...
Quaff the glass, the wine is red, And the rose of youth is glowing, While the toils of life ...
The water-wheel goes 'round and 'round With heavy sighs of mournful sound, While dismal cries and weary moans Unite with ...
We gentler grow by sorrow; not the breast That never crouches in the nights of tears, That never ...
Sweet eyes of blue! The stars by night, That swoon the world with laughing light, And touch the hills ...
_Our dearest joys forever flow_ _From fountains of the Long Ago,_ _That from the heights of pleasures past_ _Flood all ...
At eventide, when glories lie In crimson curtains hung on high, And all the breast of heaven glows ...
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