Beauty in trouble flees to the goo… On whom she can rely To pay her cab—fare, run a steamin… Poultice her bruised eye; Will not at first, whether for sha…
Blacksmith Green had three strong… With bread and beef did fill 'em, Now John and Ned are perished and… But plenty remains of William. John Green was a whiskey drinker,
Grey haunted eyes, absent-mindedly… From wide, uneven orbits; one brow… Somewhat over the eye Because of a missile fragment stil… Skin-deep, as a foolish record of…
THE bugler sent a call of high ro… “Lights out! Lights out!” to the… On the thin brazen notes he threw… “God, if it’s this for me next tim… O spare the phantom bugle as I li…
‘Gabble—gabble, . . . brethren, .… My window frames forest and heathe… I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whethe… The text is praise or exhortation,
The silent shepherdess, She of my vows, Here with me exchanging love Under dim boughs. Shines on our mysteries
Sleepy Betsy from her pillow Sees the post and ball Of her sister’s wooden bedstead Shadowed on the wall. Now this grave young warrior stadn…
As Jane walked out below the hill… She saw an old man standing still, His eyes in tranced sorrow bound On the broad stretch of barren gro… His limbs were knarled like aged t…
Father is quite the greatest poet That ever lived anywhere. You say you’re going to write grea… I chose that first: it’s unfair. Besides, now I can’t be the great…
Here they lie who once learned her… All that is taught of hurt or fear… Dead, but by free will they died: They were true men, they had pride…
Have you spent the money I gave y… Ay, father I have. A fourpence on cakes, two pennies… To a beggar I gave. The lake of yellow brimstone boil…
Why do you break upon this old, co… This painted peace of ours, With harsh dress hissing like a fl… With garish flowers? Why do you churn smooth waters rou…
This is a wild land, country of my… With harsh craggy mountain, moor a… Seldom in these acres is heard any… But voice of cold water that runs… Through rocks and lank heather gro…
Small gnats that fly In hot July And lodge in sleeping ears, Can rouse therein A trumpet’s din
Love without hope, as when the you… Swept off his tall hat to the Squ… So let the imprisoned larks escape… Singing about her head, as she rod…