The Helot (Isabella Valancy Crawford Poems)
I.Low the sun beat on the land, Red on vine and plain and wood;With the wine-cup in his hand, Vast the Helot ...
I.Low the sun beat on the land, Red on vine and plain and wood;With the wine-cup in his hand, Vast the Helot ...
You've seen his place, I reckon, friend? 'Twas rather kind ov tryin'.The way he made the dollars fly, Such gimcrack things a-buyin'-- He ...
The South Wind laid his moccasins aside,Broke his gay calumet of flow'rs, and castHis useless wampun, beaded with cool dews,Far ...
"Who curseth Sorrow knows her not at all.Dark matrix she, from which the human soulHas its last birth; whence, with ...
The silver fangs of the mighty axe, Bit to the blood of our giant boles;It smote our breasts and smote our ...
Buy my roses, citizens,-- Here are roses golden white,Like the stars that lovers watch On a purple summer night.Here are roses ruddy ...
My masters twain made me a bed Of pine-boughs resinous, and cedar; Of moss, a soft and gentle breeder Of dreams of rest; ...
O little, whisp'ring, murm'ring shell, say cans't thou tell to meGood news of any stately ship that sails upon the ...
Fountain, cans't thou sing the song My Juan sang to meThe moonlit orange groves among? Then list the words from me,And mark ...
Roses, Senors, roses! Love is subtly hidIn the fragrant roses, Blown in gay Madrid.Roses, Senors, roses! Look, look, look, and seeLove hanging in ...
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