Resultado da Busca
Há 5 dias · To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire; And come, for Love is of the valley, come, For Love is of the valley, come thou down. And find him; by the happy threshold, he, Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize, Or red with spirted purple of the vats, Or foxlike in the vine; nor cares to walk.
23 de mai. de 2024 · How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs; I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes, Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold. My arms about thee-scarcely dare to speak. And nothing seems to me so wild and bold, As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek. Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control.
Há 3 dias · Till thy dark lord accept and love the Sun, And all the Shadow die into the Light, When thou shalt dwell the whole bright year with me, And souls of men, who grew beyond their race, And made themselves as Gods against the fear Of Death and Hell; and thou that hast from men, As Queen of Death, that worship which is Fear, Henceforth, as having risen from out the dead, Shalt ever send thy life ...
15 de mai. de 2024 · Among the wise and the bold. Let the bell be toll'd, And a reverent people behold. The towerwing car, the sable steeds. Bright let it be with its blazon'd deeds, Dark in its funeral fold. Let the bell be toll'd, And a deeper knell in the heart be knoll'd; And the sound of the sorrowing anthem roll'd.
27 de mai. de 2024 · Tiresias. I wish I were as in the years of old. While yet the blessed daylight made itself. Ruddy thro' both the roofs of sight, and woke. These eyes, now dull, but then so keen to seek. The meanings ambush'd under all they saw, The flight of birds, the flame of sacrifice, What omens may foreshadow fate to man.
19 de mai. de 2024 · The little bird pipeth--'why? why?'. And stares in his face, and shouts 'how? how?'. And chants 'how? how?' the whole of the night. Why the life goes when the blood is spilt? What the life is? where the soul may lie? And a house with a chimney-pot? Who will riddle me the how and the what? Who will riddle me the what and the why? I am any man's ...
24 de mai. de 2024 · Red of the Dawn! Screams of a babe in the red-hot palms of a Moloch of Tyre, Man with his brotherless dinner on man in the tropical wood, Priests in the name of the Lord passing souls through fire to the fire, Head -hunters and boats of Dahomey that float upon human blood! Red of the Dawn! Godless fury of peoples, and Christless frolic of kings,
