The Poet’s Forge (Helen Hunt Jackson Poems)
He lies on his back, the idling smith, A lazy, dreaming fellow is he;The sky is blue, or the sky is ...
He lies on his back, the idling smith, A lazy, dreaming fellow is he;The sky is blue, or the sky is ...
Life is an Album; and my free Imagination loves to look And read, with happy augury, Thy life's as yet scarce opened book. And ...
It was a sad, ay 'twas a sad farewell,I still afresh the pangs of parting feel;Against my breast my heart ...
John in vision saw the dayWhen the Judge will hasten down;Heav'n and earth shall flee awayFrom the terror of his ...
Who, looking backward from his manhood's prime,Sees not the spectre of his misspent time?And, through the shadeOf funeral cypress planted ...
Let those who're fond of idle tricks,Of throwing stones, and hurling bricks, And all that sort of fun,Now hear a tale ...
A boy is a wonderfully curious thing, Of all creation he deems himself King, Yet give him for pastime a top and ...
Be with me, Beauty, for the fire is dying;My dog and I are old, too old for roving.Man, whose young ...
"Ah! don't you remember, 'tis almost December, And soon will the holidays come;Oh, 'twill be so funny, I've plenty of money, I'll ...
I.I purposed once to take my pen and write,Not songs, like some, tormented and awry *With passion, but a cunning ...
To ANTONIO PANIZZI, ESQ. AS THE WORTHY OCCASION, AND TO THE REV. CHRISTOPHER ERLE, AS THE PROMPT THROWER-OUT OF THE ...
I.Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coyTo those who woo her with too slavish knees,But makes surrender to ...
From the bitter fight I have made my wayTo the peaceful crest of a lonely hill,But the noise and heat ...
They let the children out of school too early.I left the Christmas shopping till too late.Each day we had a ...
The vicious are vicious, while yet in the womb of their mothers;And vile and vicious are they, when their mothers ...
THERE is no gleam of glory gone, For those who read in Nature's Book; No lack of triumph in their lookWho stand ...
endless corridorsthe convent's interior gardenworn stairsdoors, white wardsnumbing coldfetters the feet, the handspersistently hiddeneyes full of fearwith my last ounce ...
Persian, you riseAflame from climes of sacrifice Where adulators sue,And prostrate man, with brow abased,Adheres to rites whose tenor traced All worship ...
IThere is no rhyme that is half so sweetAs the song of the wind in the rippling wheat;There is no ...
A spirit is out to-night! His steeds are the winds; oh, list,How he madly sweeps o'er the clouds, And scatters the driving ...
After the Christmas, with the help of Christ, I will never stop ifI am alive; I will go to the ...
My old flame, my wife!Remember our lists of birds?One morning last summer, I droveby our house in Maine. It was ...
Baudelaire considers you his brother,and Fielding calls out to you every few paragraphsas if to make sure you have not ...
Separation turneth sweet existence bitter unto man-It layeth the very vitals upon fierce, devouring flames!Whatever strength and energy the heart ...
Under my trees of green and goldI stroll in the soft, autumnal days,With never a hint of winter's cold,Though the ...
The sky low down in distant West, is tinged with golden hue,While all the glorious vault above is one bright ...
Madam, Since Anna visited the muse's seat,(Around her tomb let weeping angels wait)Hail, thou, the brightest of thy sex, and ...
Looking to harvest what makes him happy.The AA meetings have thrownhim into iconoclastic jousts with Titansand Gorgons with glowing snake ...
Ge me thi hand, mi trusty friend, Mi own is all aw ha to gie thi;Let friendship simmer on to th' ...
Strange that across the vast of varied years, Fraught with life's wonted alloy--mingled joy and pain--Sun-kissed with smiles or gloomed with ...
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