Er-Heb beyond the Hills of Ao-Safai Bears witness to the truth, and Ao-Safai Hath told the men of Gorukh. Thence the tale Comes westward o'er the peaks to India.
The salt of the earth - what a meaningful phrase From the lips of the Saviour, and one that conveys A sense of the need of a substance saline This pestilent sphere to refresh and refine,...
If thou wouldst live unruffled by care, Let not the past torment thee e'er; If any loss thou hast to rue, Act as though thou wert born anew; Inquire the meaning of each day,...
Our fathers, brave men were and strong, And whiskey was their daily liquor; They used to move the world along In better style than now, and quicker. Elections then were sport, you bet!...
With eyes that searched in the dark, Peering along the line, Stood the grim Scotsman, Hector Clark, Driver of "Forty-nine". And the veldt-fire flamed on the hills ahead, Like a blood-red beacon sign....
Near Wilton sweet, huge heaps of stones are found, But so confused, that neither any eye Can count them just, nor Reason reason try, What force brought them to so unlikely ground. ...
The Shepherd, looking eastward, softly said "Bright is thy veil, O Moon, as thou art bright!" Forthwith, that little cloud, in ether spread And penetrated all with tender light,...
"Thou Ship of Earth, with Death, and Birth, and Life, and Sex aboard, And fires of Desires burning hotly in the hold, I fear thee, O! I fear thee, for I hear the tongue and sword...
Sez the Junior Orderly Sergeant To the Senior Orderly Man: "Our Orderly Orf'cer's ~hokee-mut~, You 'elp 'im all you can. For the wine was old and the night is cold, An' the best we may go wrong,...
Come, my little one, with me! There are wondrous sights to see As the evening shadows fall; In your pretty cap and gown, Don't detain The Shut-Eye train - "Ting-a-ling!" the bell it goeth,...
What should I be but a prophet and a liar, Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar? Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water, What should I be but the fiend's god-daughter? ...
'Not to admire, is all the art I know, To make men happy, and to keep them so.' (Plain truth, dear Murray, needs no flowers of speech, So take it in the very words of Creech.)[136]...
And you, ye stars, Who slowly begin to marshal, As of old, in the fields of heaven, Your distant, melancholy lines! Have you, too, survived yourselves? Are you, too, what I fear to become?...
Can it be the sun descending O'er the level plain of water? Or the Red Swan floating, flying, Wounded by the magic arrow, Staining all the waves with crimson, With the crimson of its life-blood,...