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PoemSentimentClassification

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with pale blue berries. in these peaceful shades--
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it flows so long as falls the rain,
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and that is why, the lonesome day,
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when i peruse the conquered fame of heroes, and the victories of mighty generals, i do not envy the generals,
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of inward strife for truth and liberty.
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the red sword sealed their vows!
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and very venus of a pipe.
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who the man, who, called a brother.
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and so on. then a worthless gaud or two,
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to hide the orb of truth--and every throne
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the call's more urgent when he journeys slow.
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with the _quart d'heure_ of rabelais!
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and match, and bend, and thorough-blend, in her colossal form and face.
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have i played in different countries.
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tells us that the day is ended."
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and not alone by gold;
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that has a charmingly bourbon air.
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sounded o'er earth and sea its blast of war,
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chief poet on the tiber-side
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as under a sunbeam a cloud ascends,
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brightly expressive as the twins of leda,
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of night, and all things now retir'd to rest
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in latmian fountains long ago.
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in monumental pomp! no grecian drop
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and when they reached the house,
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then this old orchard, sloping to the west;
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so prythee get thee gone.
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the other dark-eyed dears
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me honied paths forsake;
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to that mysterious strand.
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wid a song up on de way.
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her visions and those we have seen,--
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he sat beside the governor and said grace;
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fifty times the brahmins' offer deluged all the floor.
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and what are all the prizes won
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made snow of all the blossoms; at my feet
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he never told us what he was,
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want and woe, which torture us,
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a ruby, and a pearl, or so,
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an echo returned on the cold gray morn,
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he says he’s hungry,—he would rather have
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while i, ... i built up follies like a wall
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and then he shut his little eyes,
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ah, what a pang of aching sharp surprise
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and gladys said,
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peep timidly from out its nest,
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the oriole's fledglings fifty times
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the hostile cohorts melt away;
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and the old swallow-haunted barns,--
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from god's design, with threads of rain!
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how over, though, for even me who knew
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warped into adamantine fretwork, hung
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wilt thou forget the love that joined us here?
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the which she bearing home it burned her nest,
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have roughened in the gales!
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pilgrim and soldier, saint and sage,
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down in the west upon the ocean floor
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"what did you hear, for instance?" willis said.
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should favour equal to the sons of heaven:
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some, not so large, in rings,--
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the crown of sorrow on their heads, their loss
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the eternal law,
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and lips where heavenly smiles would hang and blend
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we're a band!" said the weary big dragoon.
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fu' to ba' de battle's brunt.
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and brief related whom they brought, wher found,
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i lay and watched the lonely gloom;
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honour to the bugle-horn!
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a sceptre,--monstrous, winged, intolerable.
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max laid his hand upon the old man's arm,
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when on the boughs the purple buds expand,
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if the pure and holy angels
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endymion would have passed across the mead
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upon the thought of perfect noon. and when
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thy hands all cunning arts that women prize.
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reasoning to admiration, and with mee
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while the rude winds blow off each shadowy crown.
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the former, as the slacken’d reins he drew
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she falls back from the freedom she had hoped."
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then--i would gather it, to thee unaware,
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amidst the gold and the purple, and the pillows of his bed:
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all hastening onward, yet none seemed to know
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the wheat-blade whispers of the sheaf.
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but o, nevermore can we prison him tight.
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under these leafy vaults and walls,
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(distinctly here the spirit sneezed,)
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it shines superior on a throne of gold:
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around it cling.
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may meditate a whole youth's loss,
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i'm safe enlisted fer the war,
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whom phoebus taught unerring prophecy,
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when thee, the eyes of that harsh long ago
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flutter,
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a way that safely will my passage guide.”
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and breaths were gathering sure
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you have done this, says one judge; done that, says another;
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in their archetypes endure.
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returne, the starres of morn shall see him rise
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brown-gabled, long, and full of seams
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the foes inclosing, and his friend pursued,
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