And one remembers. . . . Ah! the beat Of weary unreturning feet, And songs of pilgrims unreturnin...
2011-12-05
The clean clear bitter-sweet that's not for me. Love soars from earth to ecstasies unwist. Love is...
Thin to the glittering stars above, You know the hands, the eyes of love! The strife of limbs, the...
For the kin of you will surely do Their duty by the dead. Their little dull greasy eyes will water...
No pension, an' the most we earn's four hunder pound a year. Better myself abroad? Maybe. ~I'd~ soo...
To the Bank of the Open Credit, To the Power-house of the Line! We've drunk to the Queen -- God bl...
Curse on the fog! Is there never a wind of all the winds I knew To clear the smother from off my ch...
Let the trumpets snare the foeman to the proof -- I have known Defeat, and mocked it as we ran! My...
The trek and the laager again. THE SEA-WIFE There dwells a wife by the Northern Gate, And a wealt...
Kent and Surrey may -- Violets of the Undercliff Wet with Channel spray; Cowslips from a Devon co...
The buck has couched beyond the burn, My love she waits at her window To wash my hands when I retu...
That bids him mock his hurrying soul; That bids him flout the Law he makes, That bids him make the...
For a berth off the Paternosters in the haven where I would be? ~I~ believe in the Resurrection, if...
Ho! they ain't no limpin' procrastitutes -- soldier an' sailor too. You may say we are fond of an '...