Lesbia Harford

(1891 - 1927 / Australia)

Lesbia Harford Poems

81. Last Night, In A Dream 4/15/2010
82. Lawstudent And Coach 4/15/2010
83. Learning Geography 4/15/2010
84. Lie-A-Bed 4/15/2010
85. Little Ships 4/15/2010
86. Lovers Parted 4/15/2010
87. Machinist Talking 4/15/2010
88. Machinist's Song 4/15/2010
89. Martha 4/15/2010
90. Miss Mary Fairfax 4/15/2010
91. Mortal Poems 4/15/2010
92. Most People Have A Way Of Making Friends 4/15/2010
93. My Heart Is A Pomegranate Full Of Sweet Fancies 4/15/2010
94. My Lovely Pixie, My Good Companion, 4/15/2010
95. My Mission In The World 4/15/2010
96. My Window Pane Is Broken 4/15/2010
97. Noli Me Tangere 4/15/2010
98. Now All The Lovely Days Are Past 4/15/2010
99. Now I'Ve Been Three Days 4/15/2010
100. O Great Golden Head Lie In My Lap' 4/15/2010
101. O Little Plum Tree In The Garden, You'Re 4/15/2010
102. O Little Year, Cram Full Of Duty 4/15/2010
103. O Man, O Woman, Grievest So? 4/15/2010
104. O Sweet And Fair! These Words Are Mine To Use 4/15/2010
105. O You, Dear Trees, You Have Learned So Much Of Beauty 4/15/2010
106. Oh, Oh Rosalie 4/15/2010
107. Once I Thought My Love Was Worth The Name 4/15/2010
108. Ours Was A Friendship In Secret 4/15/2010
109. Pat Wasn'T Pat Last Night At All 4/15/2010
110. Periodicity 4/15/2010
111. Pink Eucalyptus Flowers 4/15/2010
112. Polytheist 4/15/2010
113. Pruning Flowering Gums 4/15/2010
114. Raging Winter Wind 4/15/2010
115. Raiment 4/15/2010
116. Revolution 4/15/2010
117. She Has All Ireland In Her Blood 4/15/2010
118. Skirt Machinist 4/15/2010
119. Somebody Brought In Lilac 4/15/2010
120. Sometimes I Am Too Tired 4/15/2010
Best Poem of Lesbia Harford

A Meaning Learnt

I'm not his wife. I am his paramour:
His wayside love, picked up in journeying:
Rose of the hedgerows; fragrant, till he fling
Me down beside the ditch, a drooped thing
Some country boy may stick into his hat.
A paramour has no more use than that.

Read the full of A Meaning Learnt

Emmie, Emmie Adams

Emmie, Emmie Adams,
With her insolent air,
Tied a little bit of rag
In her yellow hair.
When Lena, wondering,
Asked why it was there,
Emmie said she didn't know
And she didn't care.
I think Emmie Adams,
Though you are so fair,
That must be the devil's horn
In your yellow hair.

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