Malmaison (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
I Hoops Blue and pink sashes, Criss-cross shoes, Minna and Stella run out into the garden To play at hoop. ...
Fire lighted; on the table a meal for sleepy men; A lantern in the stable; a jingle now and then; ...
They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise; May Carney looked up in the bushranger's eyes: `Oh! ...
(Foot-Service to the Hills) In the name of the Empress of India, make way, O Lords of the Jungle, wherever ...
O woe is me for the merry life I led beyond the Bar, And a treble woe for my winsome ...
"Is my team ploughing, That I was used to drive And hear the harness jingle When I was man alive?" ...
I When of tender mind and body I was moved by minstrelsy, And that strain "The Bridge of Lodi" Brought ...
Children born of fairy stock Never need for shirt or frock, Never want for food or fire, Always get their ...
I to the open road, You to the hunchbacked street - Which of us two Shall the earlier rue That ...
I to the open road, You to the hunchbacked street - Which of us two Shall the earlier rue That ...
But do not let us quarrel any more, No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for once: Sit down and all ...
WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, An' bar the doors wi' driving snaw, An' hing us owre the ingle, I ...
WHILE briers an' woodbines budding green, An' paitricks scraichin loud at e'en, An' morning poussie whiddin seen, Inspire my muse, ...
TO you, sir, this summons I've sent, Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing; But if you demand what I ...
GUDEWIFE,I MIND it weel in early date, When I was bardless, young, and blate, An' first could thresh the barn, ...
Longing for spiritual springs, I dragged myself through desert sands ... An angel with three pairs of wings Arrived to ...
MORNING and evening Maids heard the goblins cry: "Come buy our orchard fruits, Come buy, come buy: Apples and quinces, ...
Of all the sickly forms of verse, Commend me to the triolet. It makes bad writers somewhat worse: Of all ...
The solitary huntsman No coat of pink doth wear, But midnight black from cap to spur Upon his midnight mare. ...
I Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us . . . Wearied we keep awake ...
I I have loved England, dearly and deeply, Since that first morning, shining and pure, The white cliffs of Dover ...
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