The Three Musicians (Aubrey Vincent Beardsley Poems)
Along the path that skirts the wood, The three musicians wend their way,Pleased with their ...
Along the path that skirts the wood, The three musicians wend their way,Pleased with their ...
I am brightly alert and exceedingly pert, And my livery's easily seen;With a bright golden breast and a black-and-white crest, ...
How can I work when you play the piano, Feminine person above?How can I think, with your ceaseless soprano Singing: ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
It is the boy in me who's looking out the window, while someone across the street mends a pillowcase, clouds ...
'My father still reads the dictionary every day. He says your life depends on your power to master words.' Arthur ...
I ENCHANTER of Erin, whose magic has bound us, Thy wand for one moment we fondly would claim, Entranced while ...
At her Junior High School graduation, she sings alone in front of the lot of us-- her voice soprano, surprising, ...
Away down East where I was reared amongst my Yankee kith, There used to live a pretty girl whose name ...
The West Village by then was changing; before long the rundown brownstones at its farthest edge would have slipped into ...
1 O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds! Such join'd unended links, each hook'd ...
I HEARD you, solemn-sweet pipes of the organ, as last Sunday morn I pass'd the church; Winds of autumn!-as I ...
How I love the working-class girls of Leeds, Their mile-wide smiles, eyes bright as beads, Their young breasts bobbing as ...
THAT music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning-yet long untaught I did not hear; But now the chorus I hear, and ...
I stand before the sea and it rolls and rolls in its green blood saying, "Do not give up one ...
DO you know how the dream looms? how if summer misses one of us the two of us miss summer- ...
I LOVE him, I love him, ran the patter of her lips And she formed his name on her tongue ...
Fling your red scarf faster and faster, dancer. It is summer and the sun loves a million green leaves, masses ...
Strumming your polished guitar with long, nail-lightened fingers, where are you now, leaning forward a peasant-dressed arm - lark on ...
Luini in porcelain! The grand piano Utters a profane Protest with her clear soprano. The sleek head emerges From the ...
The fear of perjuring herself turned into a tacit Admission of her guilt. Yet she had the skill And the ...
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