The Doctor's Window: Poems by the Doctor, for the Doctor, and about the DoctorIna Russelle Warren C.W. Moulton, 1897 - 288 trang |
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The Doctor's Window: Poems by the Doctor, for the Doctor, and ... about the ... Ina Russelle Warren Không có bản xem trước - 2012 |
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ailing ARTE MEDENDI AUDI ALTERAM PARTEM bless blister blood Bolus bones bright Calomel chyle country doctor cure dead dear death disease Doctor Bonomi Doctor Munroe DOCTOR'S WINDOW dose dream eyes face fair fame fear fever FRANCIS SALTUS SALTUS gave gentle give Gout grave hand head healing heart honor hour jalap knew knife learned life's light lips live look Marshal Saxe medicine mighty nerves never night numbers o'er old Doctor old oaken bucket OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES once oxymel pain pale patient physician pills pity pneumogastric nerve poor praise pulse quack Rip Van Winkle round sick sigh skill sleep smile soul strife surgeon sweet SYDNEY DOBELL tell thar thee There's thet things thou thought Tol de rol Twas
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Trang 282 - Can little now avail to them. But if the page of truth they sought, Or comfort to the mourner brought, These hands a richer meed shall claim Than all that wait on wealth or fame.
Trang 126 - Not far from that most celebrated place,* Where angry Justice shows her awful face: Where little villains must submit to fate, That great ones may enjoy the world in state; There stands a dome, majestic to the sight, And sumptuous arches bear Its oval height: A golden globe, placed high with artful skill, Seems, to the distant sight, a gilded pill.
Trang 186 - What does not fade ? The tower that long had stood The crush of thunder and the warring winds, Shook by the slow but sure destroyer Time, Now hangs in doubtful ruins o'er its base.
Trang 268 - Some had shoes, but all had rifles, Them that wasn't bald was beardless, And the drum was rolling Dixie, And they stepped to it like men, sir ! ' Rags and tatters, belts and bayonets, On they swung, the drum a-rolling, Mum and sour. It looked like fighting, And they meant it too, by thunder ! ' XXII PASTORAL IT'S the Spring.
Trang 269 - May, . Visibly blessing the world. O the brilliance of blossoming orchards ! O the savour and thrill of the woods, When their leafage is stirred By the flight of the angel of rain ! Loud lows the steer ; in the fallows Rooks are alert; and the brooks Gurgle and tinkle and trill. Thro' the gloaming, Under the rare, shy stars, Boy and girl wander Dreaming in darkness and dew.
Trang 82 - — his name was Bolus. Benjamin Bolus, though in trade — which oftentimes will genius fetter — read works of fancy, it is said, and cultivated the Belles Lettres.
Trang 256 - BEHOLD me waiting — waiting for the knife. A little while, and at a leap I storm The thick, sweet mystery of chloroform, The drunken dark, the little death-in-life. The gods are good to me: I have no wife, No innocent child, to think of as I near The fateful minute; nothing ail-too dear Unmans me for my bout of passive strife.
Trang 260 - SOME three, or five, or seven, and thirty years; A Roman nose ; a dimpling double-chin; Dark eyes and shy that, ignorant of sin, Are yet acquainted, it would seem, with tears ; A comely shape ; a slim, high-coloured hand, Graced, rather oddly, with a signet ring ; A bashful air, becoming everything ; A well-bred silence always at command. Her plain print gown, prim cap, and bright steel chain Look out of place on her, and I remain Absorbed in her, as in a pleasant mystery. Quick, skilful, quiet,...
Trang 80 - twas dearer to its first employer ! I thought mortality did well to keep Some mute memento of the Old Destroyer. Time was, some may have prized its blooming skin ; Here lips were woo'd, perhaps, in transport tender ; Some may have chuck'd what was a dimpled chin, And never had my doubt about its gender. Did she live yesterday or ages back ? What...
Trang 282 - Twas a skull Once of ethereal spirit full. This narrow cell was Life's retreat: This space was Thought's mysterious seat. What beauteous visions filled this spot! What dreams of pleasure long forgot! Nor hope, nor joy, nor love, nor fear Have left one trace of record here. Beneath this moldering canopy Once shone the bright and busy eye; But start not at the dismal void. If social love that eye employed...