To mournful ditties, Clio, change thy note, Since cruel fate has sunk our Justice Boat; Why should he sink, where nothing seem'd to press His lading little, and his ballast less?...
A'a! its grand to have th' place to yorsen! To get th' wimmen fowk all aght o'th' way! Mine's all off for a trip up to th' Glen, An aw've th' haase to misen for a day. ...
"Nah, lass, caar thi daan, an let's have a chat, - It's long sin we'd th' haase to ussen; Just give me thi nooations o' this thing an that, What tha thinks abaat measures an men....
[On the election of the Roman Emperor Maximus, by the Senate, A.D. 238, a powerful army, headed by the Thracian giant Maximus, laid siege to Aquileia. Though poorly prepared for war, the constancy of her citizens rendered he...
Twists of smoke rise from the limpness of jewelled fingers, The softness of Persian rugs hushes the room. Under a dragon lamp with a shade the color of coral Sit the readers of poems one by one....
On a background of pale gold I would trace with quaint design, Penciled fine, Brilliant-colored, Moorish scenes, Mosques and crescents, pages, queens, Line on line, That the prose-world of to-day...
Far are the shades of Arabia, Where the Princes ride at noon, 'Mid the verdurous vales and thickets, Under the ghost of the moon; And so dark is that vaulted purple Flowers in the forest rise...
When her eyes' sudden challenge first halted my feet on the path, I stood like a shivering caught fugitive, and strained at my breath, And the Truth in her eyes was the portent of Love and of Death,...
Who knows it not, who loves it not, The long and steady swing, The instant dip, the iron grip, The rowlocks' linked ring, The arrowy sway of hands away, The slider oiling aft,...
The beauty of this rainy day, All silver-green and dripping gray, Has stolen quite my heart away From all the tasks I meant to do, Made me forget the resolute blue And energetic gold of things . . ....
Oh, what a blessed interval A rainy day may be! No lightning flash nor tempest roar, But one incessant, steady pour Of dripping melody; When from their sheltering retreat Go not with voluntary feet...
When the clouds shake their hyssops, and the rain Like holy water falls upon the plain, 'Tis sweet to gaze upon the springing grain And see your harvest born.
LO! in storms, the triple-headed Hill, whose dreaded Bases battle with the seas, Looms across fierce widths of fleeting Waters beating Evermore on roaring leas! ...