|
| Search results for: p | Found 8786 Poems |
| 4661. | Epilogue by A. S. J. Tessimond | | "Why can't you say what you mean straight out in prose?"
Well, say it yourself: then say "It's that, but more,
Or less perhaps, or not that way, or ... |
| 4662. | Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times by A. S. J. Tessimond | | We expected the violin's finger on the upturned nerve;
Its importunate cry, too laxly curved:
And you drew us an oboe-outline, clean and acute;
Una... |
| 4663. | Chaplin by A. S. J. Tessimond | | The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky.
The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the wry
Small shadow accompanies H... |
| 4664. | Seaport by A. S. J. Tessimond | | Green sea-tarnished copper
And sea-tarnished gold
Of cupolas.
Sea-runnelled streets
Channelled by salt air
That wears the white stone.
The s... |
| 4665. | Friends Departed by Henry Vaughan | | They are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit ling'ring here;
Their very memory is fair and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth clear.... |
| 4666. | Peace by Henry Vaughan | | 1 My Soul, there is a country
2 Afar beyond the stars,
3 Where stands a winged sentry
4 All skillful in the wars;
5 There, above noise and danger
... |
| 4667. | The Relapse by Henry Vaughan | | My God, how gracious art thou! I had slipt
Almost to hell,
And on the verge of that dark, dreadful pit
Did hear them yell,
But O thy love! thy... |
| 4668. | The Shepherds by Henry Vaughan | | Sweet, harmless lives! (on whose holy leisure
Waits innocence and pleasure),
Whose leaders to those pastures, and clear springs,
Were patriarchs, s... |
| 4669. | Unprofitableness by Henry Vaughan | | How rich, O Lord! how fresh thy visits are!
'Twas but just now my bleak leaves hopeless hung
Sullied with dust and mud;
Each snarling blast shot... |
|
