The Fruit Garden Path (Amy Lowell Poem)
The path runs straight between the flowering rows, A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds of bloom, Where phlox and ...
The path runs straight between the flowering rows, A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds of bloom, Where phlox and ...
It chanced upon the very day we'd got the shearing done, A buggy brought a stranger to the West-o'-Sunday Run; ...
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
See the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a ...
From this bleeding hand of mine, Take this sprig of Eglantine: Which, though sweet unto your smell, Yet the fretful ...
Lord, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell; An little house, whose humble roof Is weather-proof; Under the ...
Some say the spot is banned; that the pillar Cross-and-Hand Attests to a deed of hell; But of else than ...
I I would that folk forgot me quite, Forgot me quite! I would that I could shrink from sight, And ...
(The Dry Salvages-presumably les trois sauvages-is a small group of rocks, with a beacon, off the N.E. coast of Cape ...
Pigmy seraphs -- gone astray -- Velvet people from Vevay -- Balles from some lost summer day -- Bees exclusive ...
It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed 'twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held ...
Far from Love the Heavenly Father Leads the Chosen Child, Oftener through Realm of Briar Than the Meadow mild. Oftener ...
There is a Rose at Auschwitz, in the briar, a rose like Sharon's, lovely as her name. The world forgot ...
LEANDER. No more of Memphis and her mighty kings, Or Alexandria, where the Ptolomies. Taught golden commerce to unfurl her ...
Love is like the wild rose-briar, Friendship like the holly-tree -- The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But ...
Sally is gone that was so kindly, Sally is gone from Ha'nacker Hill And the Briar grows ever since then ...
Gray, gray is Abbey Assaroe, by Belashanny town, It has neither door nor window, the walls are broken down; The ...
Dans le fond des forêts votre image me suit. RACINE There is a panther stalks me down: One day I'll ...
Scarlet coats, and crash o' the band, The grey of a pauper's gown, A soldier's grave in Zululand, And a ...
OH, Prue she has a patient man, And Joan a gentle lover, And Agatha's Arth' is a hug-the-hearth, But my ...
On eves of cold, when slow coal fires, rooted in basements, burn and branch, brushing with smoke the city air; ...
Beaten like an old hound Whimpering by the stove, I complicate the pain That smarts with promised love. The oilstove ...
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