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 ...
"Who curseth Sorrow knows her not at all.Dark matrix she, from which the human soulHas its last birth; whence, with ...
A startled stag, the blue-grey Night, Leaps down beyond black pines. Behind—a length of yellow light— The hunter's arrow shines: His moccasins are stained ...
He stood beside her in the dawn (And she his Dawn and she his Spring),From her bright palm she fed her ...
Young Mary stole along the vale, To keep her tryst with Ulnor's lord;A warrior clad in coat of mail Stood darkling by ...
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