Tag: Verse

Poetry – The Snow-Drop (Mower)

Sweet little unassuming flower,It stays not for an April shower,But dares to rear its tiny head,While threat’ning clouds the skies o’erspread. It ne’er displays the vain desireTo dress in flaunting gay attire;No purple, scarlet, blue, or gold,Deck its fair leaves when they unfold. Born on a cold and wintry night,Its

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Poetry – My Old Coat

BE ever true to me, thou well-loved coat,For we are growing old together now,These ten long years I’ve brushed thee every dayMyself; great Socrates the Sage, I trowHad not done better! And if remorseless FateGnaw with sharp tooth that poor, thin cloth of thine,Resist, say I, with calm philosophy,Let us

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