No Winter in Los Angeles, by August Wilhelm Wern
There is no winter here!
With joy we hail Octo...
There is no winter here!
With joy we hail Octo...
Of many gods thus gone before,
That man did w...
Blue shadows wreathed the galley's prow that bo...
“ GIVE us a song!” the soldiers cri...
In the blind darkness of unlit rooms
I was gro...
Bedeviled by grin Satanic,
Hiding human heart...
Our parents long have passed away,
All old fa...
She whom I worship night and day, she loathes ...
Trees are bowed down with weight of fruit,
Cl...
All-hail to those who love the good,
And sinf...
Kings in whose country tuneful bards are found
...
I rose without trace till the surface
ripped i...
I and the Loves Adonis dead deplore;
The beau...
I Looking seaward, o'er the sand-hills stands...
Is it the beauty of the flower,
Its honeyed s...
On fancy's wing, in slumber's regions borne,
...
From whence the rapture which I feel
Through a...
Oh love's sweet enchantment is common,
It rul...
My boyish days are long past now,
Time's sile...
Hail thou unfledged! Thou nestling of an hour!
...
The rose--the rose of matchless grace!
That be...
Ye beauteous lips! Ye fair but wily twins!
Par...
Here are violets, beautiful violets!
All brig...
Ask me where beauty is, I'll say
'Tis in swee...
My fancy's queen, the muse, one day,
Presse...