Paris Journal (James Douglas Morrison Poems)
So much forgotten alreadySo much forgottenSo much to forgetOnce the idea of purityborn, all was lostirrevocablyThe Black Musicianin a house ...
So much forgotten alreadySo much forgottenSo much to forgetOnce the idea of purityborn, all was lostirrevocablyThe Black Musicianin a house ...
They hear Thee not, O God! nor see;Beneath Thy rod they mock at Thee;The princes of our ancient lineLie drunken ...
Gloucester streets walking in Autumn twilight,Past Kineburgh's cottage and old Raven Tavern,That Hoare he kept, the Puritan, who tiredOr fired, ...
after Rene CharLet's agree that the night is a blank canvas, a stationbreak, a bridge of a song.Let's agree further ...
O trees of life, oh, what when winter comes?We are not of one mind. Are not like birdsin unison migrating. ...
See Clinchie to the hen approach,A scoundrel screen'd in gilded coach.Near to Edina's lofty town,Upon a worthy Baron's ground,A poor ...
The twilight falls; I soften the dusting feathers,And clean again.The house has lain and moldered for three days.The windows smeared ...
Fortunatus, a fisherman Dane, Set out on a sudden for Spain, Because, runs the story, He'd met with a hoary Mysterious sorcerer chap, Who, trouble ...
Roll back, roll back a hundred years,Thou ever-rolling wheel of time ;Restore again dead hopes and fears,Exhume the undiscovered crime.Why ...
'Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the ...
How happy you! who varied joys pursue;And every hour presents you something new!Plans, schemes, and models, all Palladio's art,For six ...
I was born in 1902I never once went back to my birthplaceI don't like to turn backat three I served ...
The music's done. Be quiet, Mr. Durie!Your bell and whistle put me in a fury!Don't ring up yet, sir--I've a word ...
There were no romping children at Doctor Quibble's door;Long past the silver wedding, no toys lay on the floor,But to ...
The men who camp with DangerAre mostly quiet men:And one may use a rifle,And one may use a pen,And one ...
I am an atheist who says his prayers.I am an anarchist, and a full professor at that. I take the ...
Breakfast at the Century Club, New York, May, 1879.SUCH kindness! the scowl of a cynic would soften,His pulse beat its ...
to John Logan 1I wonder how many old men last winterHungry and frightened by namelessness prowledThe Mississippi shoreLashed blind by the ...
Violets peer out in streaksOn the covered ribsOf hills, and meet the airIn a million tremblingLips on fields throughout the ...
An Actor sits in doubtful gloom,His stock-in-trade unfurled,In a damp funereal dressing-roomIn the Theatre Royal, World.He comes to town at ...
As some fond virgin, whom her mother's careDrags from the town to wholesome country air,Just when she learns to roll ...
Carmina tum melius, cum venerit IPSE canemus.VIRG. Bucolica, Ecl. ix.CASTLE GARDEN was splendid one night- though the wetPut off for ...
Never put your personal spoon in the common jelly bowl.Spread your napkin upon your lap. Do not grasp.Eat what meat ...
A NOTELESS stream, the Birchbrook runsBeneath its leaning trees;That low, soft ripple is its own,That dull roar is the sea's.Of ...
I'M thinking, Charles, 't is just a year,Or will be, very soon,Since first you told me of your love,One glorious ...
How strange are the freaks of memory! The lessons of life we forget,While a trifle, a trick of color, In the wonderful ...
AT THE UNVEILING OF HIS STATUE.Among their graven shapes to whomThy civic wreaths belong,O city of his love, make roomFor ...
Past the Red Box at Vesey streetSwing two strong tides of hurrying feet,And up and down and all the dayRises ...
All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter?I spoke a tongue that was passed onTo me in the place I ...
All right, I was Welsh. Does it matter?I spoke a tongue that was passed onTo me in the place I ...
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