The Struggle (Donald Marquis Poems)
I HAVE been down in a dark valley; I have been groping through a deep gorge; Far above, the lips ...
I HAVE been down in a dark valley; I have been groping through a deep gorge; Far above, the lips ...
Her Marriage:ISee! the moon is smiling Down her brightest beams,And the leaflets sleeping, Whisper in their dreams;Hear the merry music, ...
Long lines of ships at moorings used to lieBesides the wharves of 'Frisco. All the dayThe chipping hammers rang upon ...
It had five chimneys, had that Inn, (As every man has senses five, The while upon earth he bides alive) ...
On the far hill the cloud of thunder grew And sunlight blurred below; but sultry blue ...
The seas were left behind;in a harbour of Logreslightly I came to landunder a roaring windStrained were the golden sails, ...
After the sleepy throats of the first birdsHad creaked a madrigal into the sky,A thin sun rose to separate the ...
" ""When did your ship dock, Jim Dale, That you come so late this night? Long since I heard the ...
He strode across the schoolroom in July,Great Hector, clanging in his brazen mail;And all the cringing Greeks, with faces pale,Creaked ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
Far and wide among the nations Spread the name and fame of Kwasind; No man dared to strive with Kwasind, ...
As I left the Halls at Lumley, rose the vision of a comely Maid last season worshipped dumbly, watched with ...
When Joe Dove took his elephants out on the road He made each one hold fast with his trunk To ...
Children of the elemental mother, Born upon some lonely island shore Where the wrinkled ripples run and whisper, Where the ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
Dusk in the rain-soaked garden, And dark the house within. A door creaked: someone was early To watch the dawn ...
Smith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalized his pen; Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of ...
When I put her out, once, by the garbage pail, She looked so limp and bedraggled, So foolish and trusting, ...
PART ONE The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
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