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Charles Harpur's Poetry, by title

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  • And wonder ye not if his speech be uncouth,
    Nor look ye much for his rhymes to be smooth,
    15 lines
  • ON nerveless, tuneless lines how sadly
    Ringing rhymes may wasted be,
    7 lines
  • MY SOUL is raying like a star,
    My heart is happier than a bird,
    23 lines
  • HERE in this lonely rill-engirdled spot,
    The world forgetting, by the world forgot,
    166 lines
  • First see those ample melons-brindled o'er
    With mingled green and brown is all the rind;
    44 lines
  • High ’mid the shelves of a grey cliff, that yet
    Riseth in Babylonian mass above,
    23 lines
  • With a resplendent Eastern bride,
    Like a houri at my side,
    35 lines
  • Far up the River-hark! 'tls the loud shock
    Deadened by distance, of some Fowler's gun:
    49 lines, 1 comment
  • Flowers in their freshness are flushing the earth,
    And the voice-peopled forest is loud in its mirth,
    44 lines
  • Night was new-throned in heaven, and we did rove
            Together in the cool and shadowless haze
    13 lines
  • Not a bird disturbs the air!
    There is quiet everywhere;
    46 lines, 4 comments
  • Long ere I knew thee—years of loveless days,
    A shape would gather from my dreams, and pour
    55 lines, 2 comments
  • FAIR as the night—when all the astral fires
    Of heaven are burning in the clear expanse,
    14 lines
  • My country! I am sore at heart for thee!
    An in mine ear, like a storm-heralding breeze,
    14 lines
  • Part I
    A lonely Boy, far venturing from his home,
    224 lines
  • NIGHTLY I watch the moon with silvery sheen
            Flaking the city house-tops, till I feel
    26 lines
  • Still farther would I fly, my child,
        To make thee safer yet,
    52 lines, 1 comment
  • SHALL we sing of Loyalty
        To the far South’s fiery youth?
    25 lines
  • Spirit, that lookest from the starry fold
    Of truth’s white flock, next to thy Milton there
    14 lines
  • Still his little grave she seeketh
    In her mother-sorrow wild,
    24 lines
  • HIS lot how glorious whom the must shall name
    Her first high-priest in this bright southern clime!
    14 lines
  • MY OWN WILD BURNS! these rude-wrought rhymes of thine
    In golden worth are like the unshapely coin
    156 lines
  • A Dealer, bewitched by gain-promising dreams
    Settled down near my Station, to trade with my Teams,
    24 lines
  • We build but for change and for death,
    To whom a like homage pay glory and shame;
    10 lines
  • Mark yon runnel, how ’tis flowing,
    Like a sylvan spirit dreaming
    38 lines
  • A Genius caged in niceties of art;
    A full-souled Bard that should have thought apart,
    12 lines
  • MINE heart is heavy with an ancient sorrow,
            My brain is aching with a clinging grief,
    13 lines
  • Of Cora, once so dearly ours,
    Would mournful memory sing;
    56 lines
  • Could we as mortals but our end foresee,
    How little in our minds the world would be;
    6 lines
  • A few thin strips of fleecy cloud lies long
    And motionless above the eastern steeps,
    20 lines
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