Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree standsFar from all human dwelling: what if hereNo sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?What if the bee love not these barren boughs?Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves,That break against the shore, shall lull thy mindBy one soft impulse saved from vacancy. Who he wasThat piled these stones and with … [Read more...] about Left Upon A Seat In A Yew-tree, By: William Wordsworth
My Problems Are Over, By: DS Maolalai
1037 euros – a rebatefrom a tax formsubmitted 3years ago. and I thoughtit was a scamwhen I first got the letter.it's not though. they transferred iton thursday – my problems are overfor the next coupleof weeks. sure,it’s a lot of money,but it’s still lessthan the rent is.not like I was goingto retire or travelto africa all expensespaid. just treateda dinner and boughtthe good … [Read more...] about My Problems Are Over, By: DS Maolalai
Lament Of Mary Queen Of Scots, By: William Wordsworth
Smile of the Moon! for I so nameThat silent greeting from above;A gentle flash of light that cameFrom her whom drooping captives love;Or art thou of still higher birth?Thou that didst part the clouds of earth,My torpor to reprove! Bright boon of pitying Heaven! alas,I may not trust thy placid cheer!Pondering that Time tonight will passThe threshold of another year;For years … [Read more...] about Lament Of Mary Queen Of Scots, By: William Wordsworth
In Her Absence, By: Rob Jagodzinski
I miss her soft touchI miss her soft skinI miss her songbird voiceI miss her wild laughterI miss her raven hairWhen it cascadesas her head falls backI miss her dancing eyesAnd her dark eyebrows when her eyelids are closed tight as she thinks about something deeplyI miss her spiced scentI miss her tough and tender spiritI miss her gentle soulAnd her muscular legs her arms face … [Read more...] about In Her Absence, By: Rob Jagodzinski
June 1820, By: William Wordsworth
Fame tells of groves, from England far away,Groves that inspire the Nightingale to trillAnd modulate, with subtle reach of skillElsewhere unmatched, her ever-varying lay;Such bold report I venture to gainsay:For I have heard the quire of Richmond hillChanting, with indefatigable bill,Strains that recalled to mind a distant day;When, haply under shade of that same wood,And … [Read more...] about June 1820, By: William Wordsworth