The Cremona Violin (Amy Lowell Poem)
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
O SORROW! Why dost borrow The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips?-- To give maiden blushes To the white ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
In all thy need, be thou possest Still with a well prepared breast; Nor let the shackles make thee sad; ...
So smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice, As, could they hear, the Damned would make no noise, But ...
I "O Time, whence comes the Mother's moody look amid her labours, As of one who all unwittingly has wounded ...
He often would ask us That, when he died, After playing so many To their last rest, If out of ...
The great man turns his back on the island. Now he will not die in paradise nor hear again the ...
IN Eastern climes, by means considered new; The Mount's old-man, with terrors would pursue; His large domains howe'er were not ...
Split the Lark -- and you'll find the Music -- Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled -- Scantilly dealt to ...
A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree -- Another -- on the Roof -- A Half a Dozen kissed the ...
I sing the Name which None can say But touch't with An interiour Ray: The Name of our New Peace; ...
I lived with visions for my company Instead of men and women, years ago, And found them gentle mates, nor ...
You may talk o' your lutes and your dulcimers fine, Your harps and your tabors and cymbals and a', But ...
1 Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, And the green freedom of a ...
Through portico of my elegant house you stalk With your wild furies, disturbing garlands of fruit And the fabulous lutes ...
WHEN dawn's first cymbals beat upon the sky, Rousing the world to labour's various cry, To tend the flock, to ...
WHERE the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet, Through echoing forest and echoing street, With lutes in our ...
Far are the shades of Arabia, Where the Princes ride at noon, 'Mid the verdurous vales and thickets, Under the ...
Chapter I. Once on a time, a Dawn, all red and bright Leapt on the conquered ramparts of the Night, ...
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