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The Sunlight fills the trembling air, / And balmy days their guerdons bring; …
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From “Alice of Monmouth” / OUR good steeds snuff the evening air, …
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Here where the curfew / Still, they say, rings, …
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Where ’s he that died o’ Wednesday? / What place on earth hath he? …
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mute, sightless visitant, / From what uncharted world …
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World’s Fair, St. Louis / O THOU, 1 whose glorious orbs on high …
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So that soldierly legend is still on its journey,— / That story of Kearny who knew not to yield! …
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Oh, what a set of Vagabundos, / Sons of Neptune, sons of Mars, …
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Give me to die unwitting of the day, / And stricken in Life’s brave heat, with senses clear: …
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That sovereign thought obscured? That vision clear / Dimmed in the shadow of the sable wing, …
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Just where the Treasury’s marble front / Looks over Wall Street’s mingled nations; …
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where broods the Absolute, / Or shuns our long pursuit …
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Soe, mistress Anne, faire neighbour myne, / How rides a witche when nighte-winds blowe? …
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When the veil from the eyes is lifted / The seer’s head is gray; …
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Thou art mine, thou hast given thy word; / Close, close in my arms thou art clinging; …
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i have a little kinsman / Whose earthly summers are but three, …
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Look on this cast, and know the hand / That bore a nation in its hold: …
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COULD we but know / The land that ends our dark, uncertain travel, …
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That year? Yes, doubtless I remember still,— / Though why take count of every wind that blows! …