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Howard Phillips Lovecraft's Poetry, by title

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  • England! My England! can the surging sea
    That lies between us tear my heart from thee?
    63 lines
  • In the Midnight heaven's burning
    Through the ethereal deeps afar
    48 lines, 2 comments
  • As when a pigeon, loos'd in realms remote,
    Takes instant wing, and seeks his native cote,
    3 lines, 1 comment
  • As Christmas snows (as yet a poet's trope)       
    Call back one's bygone days of youth and hope,   
    4 lines
  • The cottage hearth beams warm and bright,
    The candles gaily glow;
    9 lines
  • O'er the midnight moorlands crying,
    Thro' the cypress forests sighing,
    44 lines
  • Haughty Sphinx, whose amber eyes
    Hold the secrets of the skies,
    8 lines, 1 comment
  • How dull the wretch, whose philosophic mind
    Disdains the pleasures of fantastic kind;
    30 lines
  • There is snow on the ground,
    And the valleys are cold,
    24 lines
  • I. The Book
    The place was dark and dusty and half-lost
    646 lines, 2 comments
  • May good St. Nick, like as a bird of night,
    Bring thee rich blessings in his annual flight;
    5 lines
  • Once more the ancient feast returns,
    And the bright hearth domestic burns
    6 lines
  • The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,
    And the trees have a silver glare;
    35 lines
  • How sad droop the willows by Zalal's fair side,
    Where so lately I stray'd with my raven-hair'd bride;
    44 lines
  • Si veris magna paratur
    Fama bonis, et se successu nuda remoto
    65 lines
  • Little Tiger, burning bright
    With a subtle Blakeish light,
    9 lines, 1 comment
  • It was in the pale garden of Zais;
    The mist-shrouded gardens of Zais,
    99 lines, 1 comment
  • Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,
    Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,
    67 lines, 1 comment
  • As Columbia's brave scions, in anger array'd,
    Once defy'd a proud monarch and built a new nation;
    28 lines
  • The hours of night unheeded fly,
    And in the grate the embers fade;
    15 lines
  • With pensive grace, the melancholy Swan
    Mourns o'er the tomb of luckless Phaethon;
    11 lines
  • We are the valiant Knights of Peace
    Who prattle for the Right:
    28 lines
  • Where bay and river tranquil blend,
    And leafy hillsides rise,
    40 lines
  • In a vale of light and laughter,
    Shining 'neath the friendly sun,
    56 lines
  • St. John, whose art sublimely shines
    In liquid odes and melting lines,
    9 lines
  • The cloudless day is richer at its close;
    A golden glory settles on the lea;
    12 lines
  • Black loom the crags of the uplands behind me,
    Dark are the sands of the far-stretching shore.
    64 lines, 1 comment
  • Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering
    Flames of futility swirling below;
    24 lines, 1 comment
  • It was golden and splendid,
    That City of light;
    55 lines
  • I am a peaceful working man,
    I am not wise or strong,
    48 lines
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