When these graven lines you see,
Traveller, do not pity me;
16 lines, 2 comments
Two men came out of Shannon's, having known
The faces of each other for so long
14 lines
Withal a meagre man was Aaron Stark, --
Cursed and unkempt, shrewd, shrivelled, and morose.
14 lines, 1 comment
We parted where the old gas-lamp still burned
Under the wayside maple and walked on,
14 lines
He knocked, and I beheld him at the door--
A vision for the gods to verify.
14 lines
Once, when I wandered in the woods alone,
An old man tottered up to me and said,
14 lines, 3 comments
“Why am I not myself these many days,
You ask? And have you nothing more to ask?
15 lines
(SAINT HELENA, 1821)
210 lines
Strange that I did not know him then.
That friend of mine!
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Think not, because I wonder where you fled,
That I would lift a pin to see you there;
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Old Archibald, in his eternal chair,
Where trespassers, whatever their degree,
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Shall I never make him look at me again?
I look at him, I look my life at him
78 lines
The Master played the bishop’s pawn,
For jest, while Atherton looked on;
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Aunt Imogen was coming, and therefore
The children—Jane, Sylvester, and Young George—
145 lines, 1 comment
Fear, like a living fire that only death
Might one day cool, had now in Avon’s eyes
1034 lines
Slowly I smoke and hug my knee,
The while a witless masquerade
29 lines, 1 comment
Down by the flash of the restless water
The dim White Ship like a white bird lay;
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In dreams I crossed a barren land,
A land of ruin, far away;
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As we the withered ferns
By the roadway lying,
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You are a friend then, as I make it out, Of our man Shakespea
416 lines
The Deacon thought. “I know them,” he began,
“And they are all you ever heard of them—
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Time was when his half million drew
The breath of six per cent;
30 lines
Well, Bokardo, here we are;
Make yourself at home.
133 lines
Child of a line accurst
And old as Troy,
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My northern pines are good enough for me,
But there’s a town my memory uprears—
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“There, but for the grace of God, goes…”
50 lines
Friendless and faint, with martyred steps and slow,
Faint for the flesh, but for the spirit free,
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We go no more to Calverly's,
For there the lights are few and low;
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I
I doubt if ten men in all Tilbury Town
390 lines
Not even if with a wizard force I might
Have summoned whomsoever I would name,
15 lines
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