The Hyacinth (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)
HERE in this wrecked storm-wasted garden-closeThe grave of infinite generations fledOf flowers that now lay lustreless and dead,As the gray ...
HERE in this wrecked storm-wasted garden-closeThe grave of infinite generations fledOf flowers that now lay lustreless and dead,As the gray ...
Your road is good:The Parcae are the ugliest facesOf classical myths. You did not write of them,But of stone slabs ...
I.O the enormous avenues of the Holy Land, the temple terraces! What has become of the Brahman who explained the ...
Way out in the woods there are brothers who readBy the light of a candle, in Greek, And in far ...
OH light as the foam on the Plover, That mottles that magical stream;Oh light as the vows of a ...
WHAT bishop of Rochester rather would die,Than with Henry 's supremacy basely comply?What martyr of Antioch yields up his breath,By ...
THE way to make friends is as easyAs breathing the fresh morning air;It isn't an art to be studiedAlone by ...
What ancestors uniteHere in this red and whiteKelpie to defineHis symmetry of line,As crouched in burning dustHe halts both Time ...
Whoever has not arrived at the clear insight that there might be greatness entirely outside his own sphere for which ...
At this particular time I have no one Particular person to grieve for, though there must Be many, many unknown ...
I have taken advantage of the publication of a Second Edition of my translation of the Poems of Goethe (originally ...
When I die I don't care what happens to my body throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East ...
FUCK ME I'm all screwed up so FUCK ME. FUCK ME and take out the garbage feed the cat and ...
It was a brave day under an endlessly clear sky that extended forever from our valley to the unfathomably distant ...
drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottle of wine, I have typed from a dozen ...
I can remember starving in a small room in a strange city shades pulled down, listening to classical music I ...
Alone in Sutton with Fynbos my orange cat A long weekend of wind and rain drowning The tumultuous flurry of ...
1. A conversation begins with a lie. and each speaker of the so-called common language feels the ice-floe split, the ...
Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing. I want to fill it with color and ducks, The zoo ...
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, ...
The Ghost of Miltiades came at night, And he stood by the bed of the Benthamite, And he said, in ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories