In MemoriamNoel Rawnsley, 1909 - 115 psl. |
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psl.
... sweet and bitter in a breath , What whispers from thy lying lip ? " The stars , ” she whispers , " blindly run ; A web is wov'n across the sky ; From out waste places comes a cry , And murmurs from the dying sun : " And all the phantom ...
... sweet and bitter in a breath , What whispers from thy lying lip ? " The stars , ” she whispers , " blindly run ; A web is wov'n across the sky ; From out waste places comes a cry , And murmurs from the dying sun : " And all the phantom ...
psl.
... sweet years arose and fell , From flower to flower , from snow to snow : And we with singing cheer'd the way , And crown'd with all the season lent , From April on to April went , And glad at heart from May to May : But where the path ...
... sweet years arose and fell , From flower to flower , from snow to snow : And we with singing cheer'd the way , And crown'd with all the season lent , From April on to April went , And glad at heart from May to May : But where the path ...
psl.
... sweet , " And silence follow'd , and we wept . Our voices took a higher range ; Once more we sang : " They do not die Nor lose their mortal sympathy , Nor change to us , although they change ; Rapt from the fickle and the frail With ...
... sweet , " And silence follow'd , and we wept . Our voices took a higher range ; Once more we sang : " They do not die Nor lose their mortal sympathy , Nor change to us , although they change ; Rapt from the fickle and the frail With ...
psl.
... sweet a thing alive ? But I should turn mine ears and hear The moanings of the homeless sea , The sound of streams that swift or slow Draw down Æonian hills , and sow The dust of continents to be ; And Love would answer with a sigh ...
... sweet a thing alive ? But I should turn mine ears and hear The moanings of the homeless sea , The sound of streams that swift or slow Draw down Æonian hills , and sow The dust of continents to be ; And Love would answer with a sigh ...
psl.
... sweet About the ledges of the hill . " And my Melpomene replies , A touch of shame upon her cheek : " I am not worthy but to speak Of thy prevailing mysteries ; For I am but an earthly Muse , And owning but a little art To lull with ...
... sweet About the ledges of the hill . " And my Melpomene replies , A touch of shame upon her cheek : " I am not worthy but to speak Of thy prevailing mysteries ; For I am but an earthly Muse , And owning but a little art To lull with ...
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