Стихи и рассказы из категории xviii

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Avenge,
O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints, whose
Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,
Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,
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Why art thou chang'd
O Phaon
tell me why
Love flies reproach, when passion feels decay;
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The tempest calmed after bending the branches of the trees and leaning heavily upon the grain in the field
The stars appeared as broken remnants of lightning, but now silence prevailed over all, as if Nature's war had never been fought
A...
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Show me, dear Christ, thy Spouse, so bright and clear
What
is it She, which on the other
Goes richly painted
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Rain on the West Side Highway,red light at Riverside:the more I love the more I thinktwo people together is a miracle
You’re telling the story of your lifefor once, a tremor breaks the surface of your words
The story of our lives becomes...
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