Poems on Several Occasions, 1 tomasDodd, Mead, 1895 |
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124 psl.
... Hope takes flight , " - ( which means that I must fly , Default of funds , to Paris or to Brussels ) ; " I cannot wait ! My own , my queen - Priscilla ! Write by return . " And now for a Manilla ! " Miss Blank , " at " Blank . " Jemima ...
... Hope takes flight , " - ( which means that I must fly , Default of funds , to Paris or to Brussels ) ; " I cannot wait ! My own , my queen - Priscilla ! Write by return . " And now for a Manilla ! " Miss Blank , " at " Blank . " Jemima ...
130 psl.
... ; While here with us - Ah ! who could hope To verify the varied pleas , Or from his private means to cope With all our shrill necessities ! Impossible ! One might as well Attempt comparison of creeds 130 VIGNETTES IN RHYME .
... ; While here with us - Ah ! who could hope To verify the varied pleas , Or from his private means to cope With all our shrill necessities ! Impossible ! One might as well Attempt comparison of creeds 130 VIGNETTES IN RHYME .
160 psl.
Austin Dobson. Nay , happier man . For him futurity Still hides a hope that this his earthly praise Finds heavenly end , for surely will not He , Solver of all , above his Flower of Days , - Teach him the song that no one living knows ...
Austin Dobson. Nay , happier man . For him futurity Still hides a hope that this his earthly praise Finds heavenly end , for surely will not He , Solver of all , above his Flower of Days , - Teach him the song that no one living knows ...
195 psl.
... hope hath lost its wing . Thou , that to Night dost call , How hast thou heart to sing Thy tears made musical ? PHILOMELA . Alas for me ! a dry desire Is all my song , — a waste of fire That will not fade nor fail ; To me , dim shapes ...
... hope hath lost its wing . Thou , that to Night dost call , How hast thou heart to sing Thy tears made musical ? PHILOMELA . Alas for me ! a dry desire Is all my song , — a waste of fire That will not fade nor fail ; To me , dim shapes ...
248 psl.
... hope or ease , But only to beat on the breast and say : · " Life we drank to the dregs and lees ; Give us ― ah ! give us - but Yesterday ! " ENVOY . YOUTH , take heed to the prayer of these ! Many there be by the dusty way , - Many that ...
... hope or ease , But only to beat on the breast and say : · " Life we drank to the dregs and lees ; Give us ― ah ! give us - but Yesterday ! " ENVOY . YOUTH , take heed to the prayer of these ! Many there be by the dusty way , - Many that ...
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ARSÈNE HOUSSAYE Autonoë BABETTE BALLAD BARON BEAU BROCADE beauty Beersheba Belle Marquise BEN JONSON bird blue Boucher bright eyes brows Caliph CHALCEDONY CHARLES BLANC CIRCE COUNTESS Cupid's Alley dance Davus dead dear DENISE DOLLY dream E'en eyes face fair fawn that seeks François Boucher FRANK grace gray heart Here's a present intended an Ode King more terrible kissed me to-day knew L'ÉTOILE laughing LAWRENCE London stones look Love's M'sieu Madam Maid Monsieur Muse myrtle twine Naught but myrtle NINETTE NINON o'er once pipe and flute Poets present for Rose PRINCESS PROCRIS Pure song rhyme Rose kissed Rosina School of Coquettes seeks its mother sigh sing smile song Stand and Deliver stay stirred strange stray fawn sweet thee THEOCRITUS thing thou thought Thracian thrush turned Twas twixt VIEUXBOIS watched weary wind-flower yore
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252 psl. - ... saints and his gilded stern-frames He had thought like an egg-shell to crack us ; .Now Howard may get to his Flaccus, And Drake to his Devon again, And Hawkins bowl rubbers to Bacchus — For where are the galleons of Spain ? Let his Majesty hang to St. James The axe that he whetted to hack us ; He must play at some lustier games Or at sea he can hope to out-thwack us ; To his mines of Peru he would pack us To tug at his bullet and chain ; Alas ! that his Greatness should lack -us ! — But where...
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164 psl. - Hardly the worst of us Here could have smiled ! Only the tremulous Words of a child ; — Prattle, that has for stops Just a few ruddy drops. Look. She is sad to miss, Morning and night, His — her dead father's — kiss Tries to be bright, Good to mamma, and sweet. That is all.
163 psl. - Tis but another dead ; All you can say is said. Carry his body hence, — Kings must have slaves ; Kings climb to eminence Over men's graves : So this man's eye is dim ; — Throw the earth over him. What was the white you touched, There, at his side ? Paper his hand had clutched Tight ere he died ; — Message or wish, may be ; — Smooth the folds out and see.
214 psl. - When the hard means rebel, Fairer the work out-grows, — More potent far the spell. O POET, then, forbear The loosely-sandalled verse, Choose rather thou to wear The buskin — strait and terse; Leave to the tyro's hand The limp and shapeless style; See that thy form demand The labor of the file.
5 psl. - From coffee-coloured laces, — So peeped from its old-fashioned dreams The fresher modern traces ; For idle mallet, hoop, and ball Upon the lawn were lying ; A magazine, a tumbled shawl, Round which the swifts were flying ; And, tossed beside the Guelder rose, A heap of rainbow knitting, Where, blinking in her pleased repose, A Persian cat was sitting. " A place to love in, — live, — for aye, If we too, like Tithonus, Could find some God to stretch the gray, Scant life the Fates have thrown...
250 psl. - Talon-rouge, falbala, queue, Cardinal, Duke, — to a man, Eager to sigh or to sue, — This was the Pompadour's fan!
106 psl. - My Plato (Plato, too, — That wisdom thus should harden !) Declares ' blue eyes look doubly blue Beneath a Dolly Varden.' " She smiled. " My book in turn avers (No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mis-translated.
221 psl. - URCEUS EXIT." I INTENDED an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet. It began a la mode, I intended an Ode ; But Rose crossed the road In her latest new bonnet ; I intended an Ode ; And it turned to a Sonnet.