Endymion: Book IV (John Keats Poem)
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
Despite the noon sun shimmering on Court Street, each day I leave my desk, and window-shop, waste time, and use ...
Third Avenue in sunlight. Nature's error. Already the bars are filled and John is there. Beneath a plentiful lady over ...
I have been wondering What you are thinking about, and by now suppose It is certainly not me. But the ...
When I meet the morning beam, Or lay me down at night to dream, I hear my bones within me ...
(a) they seek to celebrate the word not to bring their knives out on a poem dissecting it to find ...
No one talks more than a Poet; Fain he'd have the people know it. Praise or blame he ever loves; ...
I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally ...
I need oxygen to breath I need you to truly live. Food can wait. It feeds my body When talks ...
Ten Years, Dad Since you lost control At Mile Marker 19 On Valentine's Day Without her. So close to me ...
Lancaster bore him--such a little town, Such a great man. It doesn't see him often Of late years, though he ...
The three stood listening to a fresh access Of wind that caught against the house a moment, Gulped snow, and ...
I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise ...
My Sorrow, when she's here with me, Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful as days can be; ...
A man had just delivered a toad from his wife's armpit. He held it by its legs and spanked it. ...
The wind Undecided Rolls a cigarette of air The mute girl talks: It is art's imperfection. This impenetrable speech. The ...
Thou hast committed- Fornication: but that was in another country, And besides, the wench is dead. The Jew of Malta. ...
When the frosty kiss of Autumn in the dark Makes its mark On the flowers, and the misty morning grieves ...
I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally ...
The Spirit lasts -- but in what mode -- Below, the Body speaks, But as the Spirit furnishes -- Apart, ...
Steve is gone, I hardly can believe the man wont cry again, I cannot credit that his energy wont bloom ...
Most brightly of all burned the hair of my evening loved one: to her I send the coffin of lightest ...
The Lord receives his highest praise From humble minds and hearts sincere; While all the loud professor says Offends the ...
Most explicit-- the sense of trap as a narrowing cone one's got stuck into and any movement forward simply wedges ...
PART I 'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock And the owls have awakened the crowing cock; Tu-whit!- ...
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself." (David, Psalms 50.21) ['Will sprawl, now that the heat ...
In early morning twilight, raw and chill, Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill, Through miles of mire in steady ...
Plus quan se atque suos amavit omnes, nunc... - Catullus You were my playmate by the sea. We swam together. ...
O POORTITH cauld, and restless love, Ye wrack my peace between ye; Yet poortith a' I could forgive, An 'twere ...
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