The Hammers (Amy Lowell Poem)
I Frindsbury, Kent, 1786 Bang! Bang! Tap! Tap-a-tap! Rap! All through the lead and silver Winter days, All through the ...
I Frindsbury, Kent, 1786 Bang! Bang! Tap! Tap-a-tap! Rap! All through the lead and silver Winter days, All through the ...
Ah, well! but the case seems hopeless, and the pen might write in vain; The people gabble of old things ...
Your face more than others' faces Maps the half-remembered places I have come to I while I slept- Continents a ...
Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea, Now steals along upon the Moon's meek shine In even monochrome and ...
The continents colliding the forces of change the entrenched power not willing to go Changing the face of a region ...
The Spider holds a Silver Ball In unperceived Hands -- And dancing softly to Himself His Yarn of Pearl -- ...
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day's Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School. (Emily ...
It was a quiet way -- He asked if I was his -- I made no answer of the Tongue ...
As if some little Arctic flower Upon the polar hem -- Went wandering down the Latitudes Until it puzzled came ...
The day had been a day of wind and storm;-- The wind was laid, the storm was overpast,-- And stooping ...
Henry in Ireland to Bill underground: Rest well, who worked so hard, who made a good sound constantly, for so ...
As if you actually died in that dream and woke up dead. Shadows of untangling vines tumble toward the ceiling. ...
hooray say the roses, today is blamesday and we are red as blood. hooray say the roses, today is Wednesday ...
I Let others sing of Empire and of pomp beyond the sea, A song of Little Puddleton is good enough ...
MAKE war songs out of these; Make chants that repeat and weave. Make rhythms up to the ragtime chatter of ...
Before those cruel twins whom at one birth Incestuous Change bore to her father Time, Error and Truth, had hunted ...
Yours is the face that the earth turns to me, Continuous beyond its human features lie The mountain forms that ...
Sometimes we collide, tectonic plates merging, continents shoving, crumpling down into the molten veins of fire deep in the earth ...
I I have loved England, dearly and deeply, Since that first morning, shining and pure, The white cliffs of Dover ...
I sleep a lot and read St. Thomas Aquinas Or The Death of God (that's a Protestant book). To the ...
You have become a forge of snow-white fire, A crucible of molten steel, O France! Your sons are stars who ...
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