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 ...
From his far wigwam sprang the strong North WindAnd rush'd with war-cry down the steep ravines,And wrestl'd with the giants ...
"Who curseth Sorrow knows her not at all.Dark matrix she, from which the human soulHas its last birth; whence, with ...
Said the high hill, in the morning: "Look on me--"Behold, sweet earth, sweet sister sky, behold"The red flames on my ...
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 ...
Day floated down the sky; a perfect day,Leaving a footprint of pale primrose goldAlong the west, that when her lover, ...
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