Crepuscule du Matin (Amy Lowell Poem)
All night I wrestled with a memory Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought. The crumbled wreck of years ...
All night I wrestled with a memory Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought. The crumbled wreck of years ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
Thou dear and well-loved haunt of happy hours, How often in some distant gallery, Gained by a little painful spiral ...
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
Dearest, forgive that with my clumsy touch I broke and bruised your rose. I hardly could suppose It were a ...
I know a country laced with roads, They join the hills and they span the brooks, They weave like a ...
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