Cold-Blooded (Elinor Wylie Poems)
Man, the egregious egoist(In mystery the twig is bent)Imagines, by some mental twist,That he alone is sentientOf the intolerable loadThat ...
Man, the egregious egoist(In mystery the twig is bent)Imagines, by some mental twist,That he alone is sentientOf the intolerable loadThat ...
Sleep falls, with limpid drops of rain, Upon the steep cliffs of the town. Sleep falls; men are at peace ...
Man, the egregious egoist (In mystery the twig is bent) Imagines, by some mental twist, That he alone is sentient ...
This is the bricklayer; hear the thud Of his heavy load dumped down on stone. His lustrous bricks are brighter ...
As I was lying in my bed I heard the church-bell ring; Before one solemn word was said A bird ...
My love came up from Barnegat, The sea was in his eyes; He trod as softly as a cat And ...
Within my house of patterned horn I sleep in such a bed As men may keep before they're born And ...
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