Poetry

                                    It was passed from one bird to another, the whole gift of the day. The day went from flute to flute, ...

  Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow-- You are not wrong, who deem That ...

  Flowers, cold from the dew, And autumn's approaching breath, I pluck for the warm, luxuriant braids, Which ...

                She Walks in Beauty Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all...

I Danmark er jeg født, dér har jeg hjemme, der har jeg rod, derfra min verden går. Du danske sprog, du er min moders stemme,...

  Those dancing days are gone, All that silk and satin gear; Crouch upon a stone, Wrapping that foul body up In as foul a rag: I car...