Music (Kenneth Slessor Poems)
IMUSIC, on the air's edge, rides alone,Plumed like empastured Caesars of the skyWith a god's helmet; now, in the gold ...
IMUSIC, on the air's edge, rides alone,Plumed like empastured Caesars of the skyWith a god's helmet; now, in the gold ...
IIN an old play-house, in an old play,In an old piece that has been done to death,We dance, kind ladies, ...
IN the castle of Glubbdubdrib How spendidly we dine On flesh from magic potagers And cups of dead men's wine, Dead men who run ...
MY words are the poor footmen of your pride,Of what you cry, you trumpets, each to eachWith mouths of air; ...
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