Harry 'breaker' Harbord Morant World Poems

  • 1.
    Ancient, wrinkled dames and jealous -
    They whom joyless Age downcasts -
    And the sere, gray-bearded fellows
    Who would fain re-live their pasts -
    ...
  • 2.
    The world around is sleeping,
    The stars are bright o'erhead,
    The shades of myalls weeping
    Upon the sward are spread;
    ...
  • 3.
    He was a bachelor, gallant and gay
    She was a spinster prim -
    Pretty and prim, with a wonderful way
    Which had captivated him.
    ...
  • 4.
    Ah, Jack! Time finds us feeble men,
    And all too swift our years have flown.
    The days are different now to then -
    In that time when we rode ten stone.
    ...
  • 5.
    When the sklll'd fashioner of female faces
    Designed your mask, he wrought with cunning fist,
    And made a mouth expressly to be kiss'd -
    Not for shrill utterance nor pert grimaces.
    ...
  • 6.
    Oh! the quiet river-crossing
    Where we twain were wont to ride,
    Where the wanton winds were to sing
    Willow branches o'er the tide.
    ...
  • 7.
    Now, all the world is green and bright
    Outside the latticed pane;
    The fields are decked with gold and white,
    And Spring has come again.
    ...
  • 8.
    Athwart the star-lit midnight sky
    Luminous fleecy clouds drift by,
    As the mysterious, pallid moon
    Sinks in the waveless still lagoon.
    ...
  • 9.
    The sun may shine, the rain may fall,
    And the world roll round about, -
    The king's men and king's horses all
    Can never rub one thing out.
    ...
Total 9 World Poems by Harry 'breaker' Harbord Morant

Top 10 most used topics by Harry 'breaker' Harbord Morant

Never 14 Long 11 Bright 10 Night 10 Horse 10 Time 9 World 9 Light 7 Girl 7 Heart 6

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Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...

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