The Periodical Poetry Index

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A baby joy is awake in my heart,
A back-lying farm but lately taken in;
A black and glassy float, opaque and still,
A butterfly of rose-lit June
A clear pale sky--serene and autumn-cold;
A curious stranger environed in doubt,
A dream, that eerie was to see,
A fair head meekly bowed
A fool for my doubting and dreaming
A grim Power in the north rose up, and spread,
A level waste, where sheep are starving drear,
A Lion in his jaws caught up a child--
A little bit low?' Well, I is, sir, mebbe;
A little dust the summer breeze
A little toddling boy at play,
A moment of loving and laughter,
A narrow cliff, above a narrower stream
A noble man may to a narrow sphere
A noble master all may well obey
A pine-tree stands alone on
A Rabbi once, by all admired,
A ruin! But no Gothic pile divine
A showery day in early spring--
A spirit speeding down on All Souls' Eve
A star is falling, falling,
A steamy thesher murmured from afar,
A strange and grizzled man once dwelt
A tract of sand swept by the salt sea-foam,
A voice of pity strove to bless
A wearily-wan little face,
A wish at close of day,
A yarn about some victory?--Why, bless you, there's no need
A young man loves a maiden,
A youth, who had to Sais in the land
Admiral Byron has weighed his anchor,
After some thought that leaped life's boundary
Again the old dream came back to me;
Again within these walls, again alone!
Ah yes, my friend, I am nothing now
Ah! could you see me weep in anguish sore
Ah! Sorrowing Lady! In thy native land,
Ah! those eyes again, that thrill'd me
Ain't I a treat wiv me swell green 'at,
Alas! the dry-rot of the heart spreads wide,
All among the flowers and lilies,
Alma Luce semper duce,
Alone through the dark we travelled
Alone with the anguish that tore me
ALONG the level sands I heard
An ill-starred devil is the man,
An unclassified jelly, who lived in a swamp,
And as I linger'd so many a day
And hast thou forgotten, so fickle thou art,
And have you found it? Did it lie your way?
And lived he here? And could this sweet green isle
And so at length, of help and hope bereft,
And so, my dear, you're come back at last? I always fancied you would.
And speak ye may of grandeur and of gloom
Another gone of The Thousand brave;
April dawns.--Sweet month, when doves
As from beneath us slips his living bulk,
As one who pauses on a rock,
As the moon through the clouds that darkle
At Aachen, throned in imperial state,
At last, old Friend! thy limber rod,
At Rest! Thou noblest, sweetest-natured Man,
At ten o'clock your maid awakes you;
Awake, beloved! it is the hour
Awakes for me and leaps from shroud
Away from the prison-shade!
Away, away! The ruffling breezes call;
Awhile I left my glorious books,
Beautiful Florence! As in dreams I stray
Beautiful up from the deeps of the solemn sea
Bedewed with odorous balms, what pretty boy,
Before the great High Alter of his God
Beneath the surface of the crystal water
Beneath the wattled bank the eddies swarm
Bored, and thus forced out of my room,
Born with the Spring, and with the rose to die;
Brave must he be that with the storm would toy
Brave words of cheer are these which have been spoken
Bright beings of the land of fable, when
Bright Fount of Trevi, sweet and pure
Bright-faced maiden, bright-souled maiden,
Broad shadowy mountains and the boundless plain
Burst, O heart, thy stony cerements,
But he preferred to go: then Demades,
But yet that pass by the Tessalian sea,
By her fault or by ill fate
By the Aurelian Wall,
Can it be? Are you living, my queen?
Captain Ortiz (the tale I tell
Cast aside dull books and thought!
Child! it would be your undoing;
Close up to the tyrant Damon went,
Come forth, for dawn is breaking;
Come here, good people great and small, that wander far abroad,
Come with me fair maiden, Lilias,
Curse not the web of circumstance;