A Tale of Tuscany (Oscar Fay Adams Poems)
An Old-World tale. Who reads perchanceMay deem it dull or idly told,Preferring latter-day romanceWhere well trained hearts their loves unfold.Tuscany, ...
An Old-World tale. Who reads perchanceMay deem it dull or idly told,Preferring latter-day romanceWhere well trained hearts their loves unfold.Tuscany, ...
Argument:"See, saw, Margery Daw:Sold her bed and lay on straw."The first born son of Lot and Bellicent,Gawain, in far-off days ...
Argument:"There were three sisters in a hall,There came a knight among them them all;'Good-morrow, aunt,' to the one,'Good-morrow, aunt,' to ...
Argument:The man in the wilderness asked meHow many strawberries grow in the sea;And I answered him as I thought good,As ...
Argument:"Mary, Mary, quite contrary,How does your garden grow?Silver bells and cockle shellsAnd fair maids all in a row."Isolt the White, ...
Argument:The Queen of Hearts,She made some tartsAll on a summer's day;The Knave of Hearts,He stole those tartsAnd carried them away!The ...
Argument:Little Miss MuffetSat on a tuffet,Eating of curds and whey.There came a black spider,Which sat down beside her,And frightened Miss ...
Argument:Hark! hark!The dogs do bark;Beggars are coming to town.Some in rags,And some in tags,And some in velvet gown.The summer brooded ...
Gervase, a monk of Christ Church, Canterbury, speaks:Ninety long years have I dwelt here, and much have I seen in ...
Great honour hath Boston, the city, won of late in a glorious frayWith a handful of Portuguese fishers on that ...
Over the fields and the waters there suddenly swept in mid-AprilSomething that seemed like a breath that was blown from ...
What's the sweetest news in springThat the blithesome swallows bring,When from southern lands they flyThrough our cloudier northern skyAfter frosts ...
A silver tide,The waters glide,And round the feet of mountains slide,O'er whose high steepThe moonbeams peep,And on through winding valleys ...
What can drear December sayThat should make our souls rejoice?Fields are white and skies are grey;Winter speaks with sternest voice.Summer's ...
The winter tarried and the spring was late,And still from wild waste lands to northward blewThe gale that stiffened nightly ...
Springtime goes,Comes the rose,—Ne'er a letter yet!Summer's reignO'er again,—Still he doth forget!Autumn fastSlideth past,—Can he mean to letWinter drearEnd the ...
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