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 ...
"O soft, small cloud, the dim, sweet dawn adorning,Swan-like a-sailing on its tender grey; Why dost thou, dost thou float, So high, ...
Shake, shake the earth with giant tread, Thou red-maned Titian bold;For every step a man lies dead, A cottage hearth is cold.Take ...
Not from Paestum come my roses; Patrons, seeMy flowers are Roman-blown; their nectariesDrop honey amber, and their petals throwRich crimsons ...
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