(Brisbane) ‘A little Soldier of the Army of… BURY him without a word! No appeal to death; Only the call of the bird
(PARIS) SHE. ' 'Up and down, up and do… From early eve to early day. Life is quicker in the town; When you’ve leisure, anyway!
. . . They caught him at the bend.… Sat in the car, revolvers in their… From either side the stone-walled… There flashed thin fire-streaks in… The father swayed and fell, shot t…
All the heat and the glow and the… of the summer afternoon; the scent of the sweet-briar bush over bowing grass-blades and br… the birds that flit and pass;
YOU tell me these great lords hav… I say they have degraded it. Look… When ever did they let the Poet s… The Painter paint, the Sculptor h… The Music raise her heavenly voic…
In that rich Archipelago of sea With fiery hills, thick woods wher… Browses along the trees, and god-l… Leave monuments of speech too larg… There are strange forest-trees. F…
‘THE foxes have holes, And the birds of the air have nest… But where shall the heads of the s… Be laid, be laid?’ ‘Where the cold corpse rests,
I SEE a Land of desperate drough… I see a land where Need keeps spr… And all but giants perish in the s… I see a Land where more, and more… The demons, Earth and Wealth, gro…
(A Memory of August, 1883) I STOOD in the ghastly gleaming… Of the dreadful river that rolls h… Woe; And mine eyes were heavy with slee…
THERE was a time when all thy so… To speak thy name, England, when Europe echoed back… Thy fearless fame: When Spain reeled shattered helpl…
O WE have loved you through cold… And pitiless frost, Consuming our offering of blood an… Gladly again and again and again, Though it all seemed lost,
IN the black night, along the mud… Amid the threatening boughs and gh… Hark! sounds that gird the darknes… Murmurs and rumours and reverberan… Trampling, breaths, movements, and…
‘YES, let Art go, if it must be That with it men must starve ’ If Music, Painting, Poetry Spring from the wasted hearth!’ Yes, let Art go, till once again
He asked me of my friend– “a cleve… Such various talent, business, jou… A pen that might some day have sen… From our greatest newspapers.”– “… All this,” I said.– “And yet he w…
WHERE is poor Jesus gone? He sits with Dives now, And his dogs flesh their teeth On Lazarus below. Where is poor Jesus gone?
