Sonnet CCCXI: “Like to a flock of birds, the flying days” (George Henry Boker Poems)
Like to a flock of birds, the flying days Whirr in my ears, and leave no trace behind, More than ...
Like to a flock of birds, the flying days Whirr in my ears, and leave no trace behind, More than ...
LXIWhen I remember, Love, the happy hours That came too rarely, and appeared too brief, Rescued by us from our ...
IWhen to his class the surgeon's skilful blade Reveals the mysteries of the inner man, So lost is science, brooding ...
Sweet, when thy brow becomes the haunted spot Of Death's grim heralds, care and wasting pain, And all my bitter ...
CCIILove stirs the pulses of my deeper thought, Muses on things that were and things to be, Weaves for himself ...
CCXLSo long have paused the strings across my lute, So many streams of bitterness have run Athwart my way, so ...
A golden circle for my lady's hand, Crowned with a ruby 'twixt the outspread wings Of that eternal globe which ...
Fairest of all the fair ones I have seen, Fairest of all, in feature not alone, Nor form, nor grace, ...
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