Poet
George W. Sands
English
- A Legend Of The Hartz.
- Acle At The Grave Of Nero.
- After Witnessing A Death-Scene.
- Albert
- Albert
- Albert
- Albert
- An Aerial Chorus
- And day on weary day went by
- And now, their rustic banquet done
- And this was he who, standing there
- And thus from varying year to year
- And who by kith, and who by name
- Around the drunkard's tattered couch
- Ascending from the golden east
- Eternal rocks and hills
- Far down beneath the deep blue waves
- From where the hermit's cottage stood
- Haunt the debauchee with dreams
- He stood where the mountain moss outspread
- How beautiful
- How shall I to myself alone
- How strong a hand hath Time! Man rears
- I mind as if 'twere yesterday
- I said I minded well the time
- I saw from port a vessel steer
- Impromptu,
- It was the holy vesper hour
- Life is but a fleeting day
- Lines Written In A Young Lady's Album
- Love And Fancy.
- Nor was it I alone, to whom
- Not in the peopled solitude
- Rebecca
- Rose
- Rose
- See, where yon towering, rocky ledge
- Sings
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirit
- Spirt
- Stay, traveller, stay thy weary steed
- Still onward, solemnly and slow
- The Deserted.
- The Lock Of Hair.
- The Old Man And The Boy.
- The Venetian Girl's Evening Song.
- The words I speak are no complaint
- Then seek we, for the maiden's pillow
- There is a silent power, that o'er
- These lines are inscribed to the memory of John Q. Carlin, killed at Buena Vista.
- Thou seest how fair a scene is here
- Thou, mortal, wast the bark I saw
- Thus spake an aged man to one
- To A Lady.
- To Isabel
- To Isabel.
- To the region of shadow
- Twas midnight; calmly slept the Earth
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- Werner
- When the horn of the hunter resounds from on high
- When the Morning starts up from her couch on the deep
- With plumes to which the dewdrops cling
- Within an arbour, rudely reared
- Yet my fond love I never told