The Boston Athenaeum (Amy Lowell Poem)
Thou dear and well-loved haunt of happy hours, How often in some distant gallery, Gained by a little painful spiral ...
Thou dear and well-loved haunt of happy hours, How often in some distant gallery, Gained by a little painful spiral ...
Always too eager for the future, we Pick up bad habits of expectancy. Something is always approaching; every day Till ...
By the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer ...
Walking an unfamiliar path that you've never trod before, Or knocking on a strange and unfamiliar door, Can be extremely ...
This nothingness that feeds upon itself: Pencils that turn to water in the hand, Parts of a sentence, hanging in ...
As if I were composed of dust and air, The shape confronting me upon the stair (Athlete of shadow, lighted ...
CHORUS: O suitably-attired-in-leather-boots Head of a traveller, wherefore seeking whom Whence by what way how purposed art thou come To ...
'My father still reads the dictionary every day. He says your life depends on your power to master words.' Arthur ...
WHERE is this patriarch you are kindly greeting? Not unfamiliar to my ear his name, Nor yet unknown to many ...
When I thy parts run o'er, I can't espy In any one, the least indecency; But every line and limb ...
Walking, journeying, living out my days in the shadow of the cross letting go of my troubles, of my cares ...
sitting at the end of the dinner thinking of a walk in the woods just before fall not in the ...
I Midwinter spring is its own season Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown, Suspended in time, between pole and tropic. When ...
Clean your glory glasses, scrub the lenses clean and see the puissant morons stare; garbed in common guises far from ...
October. Here in this dank, unfamiliar kitchen I study my father's embarrassed young man's face. Sheepish grin, he holds in ...
Here, where love's stuff is body, arm and side Are stabbing-sweet 'gainst chair and lamp and wall. In every touch ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
Overhead the tree-tops meet, Flowers and grass spring 'neath one's feet; There was nought above me, and nought below, My ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same; The village ...
You too return, along with days gone, and flow again, my blue rivers, to carry on the songs of washerwomen, ...
The room is full of you!-As I came in And closed the door behind me, all at once A something ...
Another armored animal--scale lapping scale with spruce-cone regularity until they form the uninterrupted central tail-row! This near artichoke with head ...
All afternoon my father drove the country roads between Detroit and Lansing. What he was looking for I never learned, ...
You pull over to the shoulder of the two-lane road and sit for a moment wondering where you were going ...
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