Well sang the Bard who called the grave, in strains Thoughtful and sad, the "narrow house." No style Of fond sepulchral flattery can beguile Grief of her sting; nor cheat, where he detains...
Who rides there so late through the night dark and drear? The father it is, with his infant so dear; He holdeth the boy tightly clasp'd in his arm, He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm. ...
A certain commonwealth aquatic, Grown tired of order democratic, By clamouring in the ears of Jove, effected Its being to a monarch's power subjected....
Bring me the slumbering souls of flowers, While yet, beneath some northern sky, Ungilt by beams, ungemmed by showers, They wait the breath of summer hours,...
The daylight is dying, The Flying fox flying, Amber and amethyst burn in the sky. See, the sun throws a late, Lingering, roseate Kiss to the landscape to bid it good-bye. ...
I'm a girl of Ke-Mo village Selling my rice wine on the road. Mine is the strongest rice wine in the land, Though my bottle is so patched and dirty. These silly rags are not my body,...
He saves the sheep, the goats he doth not save. So rang Tertullian's sentence, on the side Of that unpitying Phrygian Sect which cried: "Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave, ...
Rid of the world's injustice, and his pain, He rests at last beneath God's veil of blue: Taken from life when life and love were new The youngest of the martyrs here is lain,...