Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. Take counsel, sever from my lot your lot,...
I stand above the city's rush and din, And gaze far down with calm and undimmed eyes, To where the misty smoke wreath grey and dim Above the myriad roofs and spires rise; ...
One day the Chinese Bird of Royalty, FUM, Thus accosted our own Bird of Royalty, HUM, In that Palace or China-shop (Brighton, which is it?) Where FUM had just come to pay HUM a short visit.--...
To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned, To my brethren in their sorrow overseas, Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed, And a trooper of the Empress, if you please....
Dead art thou? No more dead than was the maid Over whose couch the saving God did stand-- "She is not dead but sleepeth," said, And took her by the hand!
Thee knowledge never from Life's pathway wiled,...
"You must give back," her mother said, To a poor sobbing little maid, "All the young man has given you, Hard as it now may seem to do." "'Tis done already, mother dear!"...
Give me leave to rail at you, I ask nothing but my due: To call you false, and then to say You shall not keep my heart a day. But alas! against my will I must be your captive still....
"Give us Rain, Rain," said the bean and the pea, "Not so much Sun, Not so much Sun." But the Sun smiles bravely and encouragingly, And no rain falls and no waters run. ...
Aa'or - Cahors? Aggy Chell - get ahead abby-nay - Not now arder - And a half aasvogel - Vulture babul - Acacia bairagi - Wandering holy man band karo - locked up Bandar - Monkey...
Into the world's most high and holy places Men carry selfishness, and graft and greed. The air is rent with warring of the races; Loud Dogmas drown a brother's cry of need....
When men exert their utmost pow'rs, To while away the tedious hours, With soothing Flatt'ry's art, When ev'ry art and work well skill'd, And ev'ry look with poison fill'd, Assail a woman's heart, ...
Put off Thy robe of purple, then go on To the sad place of execution: Thine hour is come, and the tormentor stands Ready to pierce Thy tender feet and hands. Long before this, the base, the dull, the rude,...
Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wide forest, and held no path but as wild adventure led him... And he returned and came again to his horse, and took off his saddle and his bridle, and let him pasture; and unlaced...