Afternoon Rain in State Street (Amy Lowell Poem)
Cross-hatchings of rain against grey walls, Slant lines of black rain In front of the up and down, wet stone ...
Cross-hatchings of rain against grey walls, Slant lines of black rain In front of the up and down, wet stone ...
Dear child! how radiant on thy mother's knee, With merry-making eyes and jocund smiles, Thou gazest at the painted tiles, ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through ...
ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. "THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG." INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book ...
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from ...
The Red -- Blaze -- is the Morning -- The Violet -- is Noon -- The Yellow -- Day -- ...
I was schooled well before he died, able at least to feel what others felt when their fathers were deceased. ...
Don't talk to me of War or stalk the ground our fabled soldiers died upon, I'm sound of limb and ...
That bright chimeric beast Conceived yet never born, Save in the poet's breast, The white-flanked unicorn, Never may be shaken ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
It is full summer now, the heart of June; Not yet the sunburnt reapers are astir Upon the upland meadow ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
To that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught Of all the great things men have saved from Time, ...
I stood by the unvintageable sea Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray; The long red fires ...
Deep on the convent-roof the snows Are sparkling to the moon: My breath to heaven like vapour goes; May my ...
If you leave the gloom of London and you seek a glowing land, Where all except the flag is strange ...
Heigh ho! to sleep I vainly try; Since twelve I haven't closed an eye, And now it's three, and as ...
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride ...
The First Epistle Awake, my ST. JOHN!(1) leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of Kings. Let ...
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn, Or of the Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee unblam'd? since God ...
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