|
Sonnets: XVIII. He Clung To Me, His Young Face Dark With Woe
|
|
|
|
Winds Blowing Over The White-Capped Bay
|
|
|
|
Chords, Tremendous Chords
|
|
|
|
The Thinkers Light Their Lamps In Rows
|
|
|
|
Sonnets: I. Love Dwelled With Me With Music On Her Lips
|
|
|
|
Like Children On A Sunny Shore
|
|
|
|
I Have Known The Lure Of Cities And The Bright Gleam
|
|
|
|
I Pass My Days In Ghostly Presences
|
|
|
|
Sonnets: II. Invoking Not The Worship Of The Crowd
|
|
|
|
Thermopylae
|
|
|