creative writer
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening b Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here
By Mohsin3 years ago in Poets
The Tyger B Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
# The Laughing Heart By your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. be on the watch. there are ways out.
Sonnet 18 W Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth B How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stol'n on his wing my three-and-twentieth year!
She walks in beauty By She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright
The Good-Morrow By I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
My Boat Is On The Shore by My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But before I go, Tom Moore, Here's a double health to thee!
SWEET FLOWER Sweet flower sprung beneath my thin skin On my heart it bloomed, filled me to the brim With beautiful thoughts and dreams of a life
Acquainted with the Night I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light.
Holy Thursday: Is this a holy thing to see B Is this a holy thing to see, In a rich and fruitful land, Babes reducd to misery,
A Complaint by There is a change--and I am poor; Your love hath been, nor long ago, A fountain at my fond heart's door,