More Sonnets At Christmas I (Allen Tate Poems)
To Denis DevlinAgain the native hour lets down the locksUncombed and black, but gray the bobbing beard;Ten years ago His ...
To Denis DevlinAgain the native hour lets down the locksUncombed and black, but gray the bobbing beard;Ten years ago His ...
Your eyes are bright lands.Your looks are little birds,Handkerchiefs gently waving goodbye.In your smile I rest as though in bobbing ...
(For Warren Winslow, Dead At Sea) Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of ...
Now wind torments the field, turning the white surface back on itself, back and back on itself, like an animal ...
Swimming the English Channel, struggling to make it to Calais, I swam into Laura halfway across. My body oiled for ...
Ducks bobbing on the water-- are they also, tonight, hoping to get lucky? (Kobayashi Issa)
It was the pleasant season yet, When the stones at cottage doors Dry quickly, while the roads are wet, After ...
We, the Fairies, blithe and antic, Of dimensions not gigantic, Though the moonshine mostly keep us, Oft in orchards frisk ...
Shall I move the flowers again? Shall I put them further to the left into the light? Win that fix ...
When she goes to Hollywood she is an angel. She writes in red red lipstick on the window of her ...
(From Frise on the Somme in February, 1917, in answer to a letter saying: "I am just finishing my 'Faun's ...
Against the winds prevailing currents of the world fighting the tide of history the believes of the nation our people ...
A foggy day on the ocean, my feet in the warm surf, feeling the water lapping, the movement of the ...
on the water, the boat watching the shore, the water, birds, the loons, the horizon watching the sky, clouds shadows ...
The loon and I Alone on the lake Below the threatening sky. He watches me warily. His red eye afire. ...
When the crow lands, the tip of the sprung spruce bough weighs so low, the system so friction-free, the bobbing ...
How I love the working-class girls of Leeds, Their mile-wide smiles, eyes bright as beads, Their young breasts bobbing as ...
Almost yesterday, those gentle ladies stole to their baths in Atlantic Cuty, for the lost rites of the first sea ...
When the moon was full they came to the water. some with pitchforks, some with rakes, some with sieves and ...
Searching my heart for its true sorrow, This is the thing I find to be: That I am weary of ...
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, The ...
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