The Book of Hours of Sister Clotilde (Amy Lowell Poem)
The Bell in the convent tower swung. High overhead the great sun hung, A navel for the curving sky. The ...
The Bell in the convent tower swung. High overhead the great sun hung, A navel for the curving sky. The ...
Midas watched the golden crust That formed over his steaming sores, Hugged his agues, loved his lust, But damned to ...
Many thousand glittering motes Crowd forward greedily together In trembling circles. Extravagantly carousing away For a whole hour rapidly vanishing, ...
In the fairy tale the sky makes of itself a coat because it needs you to put it on. How ...
It was long I lay Awake that night Wishing that night Would name the hour And tell me whether To ...
I PRELUDE Daughter of Psyche, pledge of that last night When, pierced with pain and bitter-sweet delight, She knew her ...
Pursuing you in your transitions, In other Motes -- Of other Myths Your requisition be. The Prism never held the ...
And so I had a glaring revelation, I couldn't find the poet in the man although I read his life ...
Gray rainwater lay on the grass in the late afternoon. The carp lay on the bottom, resting, while dusk took ...
The moon, a sweeping scimitar, dipped in the stormy straits, The dawn, a crimson cataract, burst through the eastern gates, ...
"But, sir," I said, "they tell me the man is like to die!" The Canon shook his head indulgently. "Young ...
"Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?" -- Browning. "Shelley? Oh, yes, I saw him often then," The old man ...
After the whipping he crawled into bed, Accepting the harsh fact with no great weeping. How funny uncle's hat had ...
You can't put in the ground swell of the organ from the Christiansted, St.Croix, Anglican Church behind the paratrooper's voice: ...
The birds' shrill fluting Beats on the pink blind, Pierces the pink blind At whose edge fumble the sun's Fingers ...
THE LANDS OF MY CHILDHOOD 1 I am leaving the holy city of Leeds For the last time for the ...
In my dream, Celebrity, four pianos scored the room, and you -- on an antique sofa near two dark-haired innocents ...
NOTE.-The following imaginary dialogue between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, which is not based upon any specific incident in American ...
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful? It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it ...
You come in late, wiping your lips. What did I leave untouched on the doorstep--- White Nike, Streaming between my ...
Hence, vain deluding Joys, ............The brood of Folly without father bred! How little you bested ............Or fill the fixed mind ...
The earth again like a ship steams out of the dark sea over The edge of the blue, and the ...
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